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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29084013">Howl for Me, Baby</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pondermoniums/pseuds/Pondermoniums'>Pondermoniums</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Animal Familiars, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Fluff and Smut, Gender Non-conforming Characters, Imprinting, M/M, Magic, Magic School, Magic is not a secret, Meditation, Mental Link, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Tarot, The magical world of hawkins indiana, Werewolf Billy Hargrove, Witch Steve Harrington, everyone is supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:13:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,680</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29084013</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pondermoniums/pseuds/Pondermoniums</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In Steve’s defense…it was a windy night.</p><p>In Billy’s defense, anything falling from the sky would be a shock.<br/>Especially a wolf’s mate.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>291</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>*sigh*</p><p>Here we go again lol </p><p>BUT this was massively inspired after I saw <a href="https://swearwolfcola.tumblr.com/post/187519159772/recent-commission-i-did-for-treble-wolf-glad">Swearwolfcola's art ~</a></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In Steve’s defense…it was a windy night.</p><p>And the spell may have gone catastrophically wrong, but who’s keeping track?</p><p>The point is, he flew into the sky on his mother’s broom—Bloom-Ridge Optimum Occult Mechanics—and the witching hour fog only grew thicker. The world beneath him shimmered ever so slightly, the blanket of fog reflecting the moonlight the same way snow does. He flew lower than he should have, tripped over the top of a tree, and the next he knew, the universe threw him a bone by somersaulting his landing in a lush, untrimmed field.</p><p>Gotta love Hawkins. All wide open fields and watering holes.</p><p>Except a wolf caught the bone. Steve didn’t realize he was on a pack’s running grounds until he groaned in the equally sharp and soft wheat field. Groaning and talking to himself as he climbed to his feet, he meant to brush gold and green pieces off his jeans—but was promptly knocked right back onto his ass.</p><p>“Agh-oh!” he coughed, officially hard on breathing…as a <em>large</em> paw stepped onto his sternum. He tried and failed to put words together; he could only grab at the fur-covered leg that was wet with dew and mud. He croaked, “I…crashed. That’s—all!”</p><p>The wolf wasn’t growling. Compared to the night around them, the wolf’s only sounds were breathing and the rustle of fur. Which could be the only reason why Steve did not melt into the earth or explode in violent sparks of magic when the wolf dragged a warm and soft tongue all the way up his neck, from clavicle to jaw.</p><p>Steve had never seen a normal wolf, but Weres were <em>large</em>. All long legs and strong bodies. Meant for running and charging down prey. The tongue felt like it covered the whole front of his throat as it laved up his windpipe, the cold and wet nose contrasting hot breath as it pushed his jaw up.</p><p>And it <em>was</em> a Were, because the eyes were <em>blue</em>. Steve couldn’t be sure when he picked up on that detail. Somewhere between his watery eyes, magically boosted night vision, and adrenaline-fueled panic, but gods, he needed to <em>breathe</em>—</p><p>Much like Steve had been knocked off his feet, something collided with the wolf. Steve sucked in air, as much as he could while rolling over to lunge for his broom. Whatever had run into the wolf, Steve only saw the tumbling bodies in his periphery. Grabbing the broom, he swung it in between his legs with intimate familiarity while simultaneously stepping onto the foot peg at the broom’s base.</p><p>His mother would screech at seeing him soar perpendicularly to the earth, but he wanted to get the hell out of here. So up he went, clutching the broom handle close to his body until he felt safe enough to angle himself, and eventually level out. He only glanced back at the field once, but the fog already separated him from the—he assumed—multiple wolves.</p><p>Steve shook his head, or as much as he could from where his cheek pressed against the lacquered wood. “Not my problem. Fuck, it’s cold up here.”</p><p>* * *</p><p>In Billy’s defense, anything falling from the sky would be a shock.</p><p>Especially a wolf’s mate.</p><p>He would’ve been inclined to laugh his head off at the idiot landing ungracefully in the field with tree branches in tow—if it weren’t for his heart feeling like a stone turning to flesh. Like the blood in his veins had never moved, and now the ice was cracking into slush, sharply pushing through his limbs.</p><p>First impressions…after the initial landing…were dark hair and lean limbs. Moon and stars knew, his heart would move for his mate regardless of body type. But the movement of wide shoulders as he got up from the wheat… Billy had moved before he meant to. His default setting tended to be aggressive, and he outright knocked the poor man onto his back where Billy could really <em>look at him</em>.</p><p>And he just couldn’t help himself. Dark hair both wind blown and wet; a little bit stringy from the clouds. Cheeks red from the cold. Large eyes blown wide at the pupil like a cat. Billy didn’t have a lot of time to scrutinize his features because in the very center was a glorious column of shiny, sweaty neck. For whatever reason, the sweater his mate—<em>mate! Mine mine…</em>—wore stretched around the collar to allow him to see the polo underneath. The collar points were pulled wide, the button within having come undone or never been buttoned in the first place…</p><p>Billy licked the open space there, all the way up to the underside of his jaw. He tasted his mate’s sweat and skin…neutral sweet and sour salt. Delicious and <em>his</em>. All his—</p><p>The unique agony of having the wind knocked out of the lungs crashed into him. A mixture of needs flashed through his mind—air, mate, defend, mate, attack, air—but overall self-preservation won out. All of the other needs were unattainable if he couldn’t stand on his own paws, so that is where he focused—</p><p>Only for his alpha to charge again, barreling into him. He used her momentum to go down and roll, kicking her off and rising to his feet this time.</p><p>
  <em>MOVE!</em>
</p><p>His eyes found his mate in a similar state, forcing air into his lungs while managing the flying thing—</p><p>Teeth closed around his rear leg. Billy whirled around, snarling louder than he ever intended against his alpha. Like he was ready to fight her. And win.</p><p>The sound tore out of him as well as smacked him right in the face. Thoughts warred inside him as his wolf’s voice whined aloud.</p><p>
  <em>Mom, I’m sorry… Let go!</em>
</p><p>And she replied, <em>You have to let him go, baby.</em></p><p><em>No—I can’t—I won’t</em>, he growled again. Softer, this time, but his eyes were blue flames.</p><p>His alpha did not relent. Soon she would pierce through his fur and skin, if he let her. <em>You have his scent. Maybe next time try for an introduction instead of eating him.</em></p><p><em>Next time, next time, next time, next time</em>…echoed through his brain.</p><p>Next time he would certainly devour him.</p><p>Although, for some reason, it was not until the following day that it occurred to Billy that his mate was a witch.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>
  <a href="https://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/post/641742732236390400/howl-for-me-baby-prologue">You can read this on tumblr (and I linked more of SwearWolfCola's witch!steve and werewolf!billy art in this post ~</a>
</p><p>
  <a href="https://twitter.com/Pondermoniums">Twitter~</a>
  <br/>
  <a href="http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/">Tumblr~</a>
</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Different</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter almost got very long but I decided to split it ~<br/>Thank you all so much for your super kind reception of this fic! It means a lot ^_^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“As futile as it is to say it, I’ll bother anyways: you should observe him first.”</p><p>Billy glared at the milk from his place halfway inside the fridge, trying to decide what he wanted for breakfast. “Mom.”</p><p>“Starlight.”</p><p>He stood up straight, standing above the fridge door to glare at her. His mother sat at the kitchen table, cutting into the veggie frittata he had poo-pooed upon arriving for breakfast. Now that she cut into it, he could properly smell mushrooms and pepperoni wafting from it. He begrudgingly took a plate from the box marked <em>Kitchen</em> for her to put a serving on it. They weren’t so much unpacking as removing things from boxes as they used them.</p><p>“I thought there was no segregation here.”</p><p>“Everyone lives together peacefully, sure,” she agreed, “but that doesn’t mean a bunch of fresh adults are going to get along. Being nineteen certainly doesn’t mean much when old fears die slowly. Witches and wolves have a long history. Of getting along and <em>not</em> getting along.”</p><p>Billy scoffed while he waited for the steam rising off his fork to abate. “I’m not worried or afraid of him.”</p><p>His mother waited for him to swallow and go for his second bite when she stopped him with a hand on his forearm. “I know what he means to you, I was there. And I was coherent enough to notice how his first instinct was to be defensive instead of aggressive…unlike someone.”</p><p>Billy’s gaze moved elsewhere and he shoveled frittata into his mouth.</p><p>“Just get the lay of the land first, for me, all right? I’m not worried about anyone carved by the stars for you. I <em>am</em> distrustful of everyone else.”</p><p>He smirked even through his mouthful. “I’m not.”</p><p>She shoved his face around with a napkin over his mouth. “Yeah, that’s usually your issue. Bottom line: don’t make anyone call me over a schoolyard fight. You’re taking Maxine to school.”</p><p>“You know she doesn’t like her full name.”</p><p>“She and her mother moved with us for the same reasons we decided on this place—”</p><p>“You decided.”</p><p>“Well, yes, that’s an alpha prerogative. Like it or not, you—my big brain son—got into one of the best finishing schools in the country—”</p><p>“Why’s it a <em>finishing</em> school? Am I going to learn pompous human manners?”</p><p>His mother sighed, “Good grief. The school system is different. After typical high school, there’s a program for eighteen to twenty year olds. After next year, you can fuck around or decide on university. But I think Max will be more receptive to alternating between her full name or short name in this environment. I think you’ll both have a lot of opportunity to grow here.”</p><p>* * *</p><p>Billy didn’t know what his mother meant until he cruised through the parking lot. He saw Max in his periphery, likewise leaning forward to better see their fellow classmen.</p><p>Men wearing scrunchies.</p><p>Women smoking in leather jackets.</p><p>Billy parked next to a guy standing up in his Jeep to sit on the roof pole for optimum lighting while doing his makeup. Billy uttered dryly, “This is different.”</p><p>“It’s more colorful,” she agreed on a lighter note.</p><p>Billy unbuckled his seatbelt while scrutinizing the buildings around them. Behind them stood Max’s school, which for all intents and purposes looked like a regular high school—a high school for supernatural things, that is. Modern materials and Renaissance design came together for a sturdy fortress of a building, both to protect the kids from the outside, and simply built to last against the chaos of pre-teens and adolescents. Based on the birds coming and going from the rooftop, Billy knew there would be a courtyard in the center of it all. Maybe more than one.</p><p>As he got out of the car, he voiced, “This place is big for a small town.”</p><p>She agreed from her side of the car, “It’s like a small university. It’s kinda cool.”</p><p>Billy hummed gruffly, unwilling to agree until he found what he was looking for. No amount of expensive architecture would be worth it if his mate wasn’t inside.</p><p>“You sit on a pine cone last night?”</p><p>His gaze jerked over the roof of his car. “Excuse me?”</p><p>Max tactically avoided his eyes as she shut the car door and shouldered her bag. “Just seem grouchier than normal. Figured it’d be nice, meeting other wolves.”</p><p>He exhaled through his nose and shut his door. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to answer, Max switched, “I have a class in your building.”</p><p>He raised a brow at his…<em>Finishing School</em>. Where Max’s building stood overall like a block of architecture, his had a dome on one side. That had to be for the witches. No one else had a need for stargazing or a higher landing spot.</p><p>However…no one flew to or from it now. Maybe it was a rule: no brooms before noon.</p><p>“Why? What’s the class?”</p><p>“Chemistry. I guess they only allow those labs where upper classmen can help if things go wrong. Are you okay?” she pressed when he seemed more inclined to scan the area instead of listen.</p><p>In one motion, he donned the strap of his satchel and began striding out of the lot. “Don’t take any shit from other wolves.”</p><p>Her response came in the form of air flapping out of her lips. However he had better things to do than out-sass the runt. They were early enough that he had time to wander the halls, learn his classrooms, and as his alpha put it: get the lay of the land.</p><p>Wolves spotted him on sight. Billy knew eyes were on him as he stuffed his bag into the old school wooden cabinets instead of loud, metal lockers. It was remarkably similar to a regular school: long hallways lined with cabinets with classrooms on either side. But the fine tiling underfoot and the high, almost cathedral ceilings were a bit much. At least there weren’t any frescos or cherubs.</p><p>“You’re definitely new. Not from around here?”</p><p>Billy lowered his gaze to the freckly person on his other side. Billy knew a beta when he smelled one. There were two types: attention whores and actual team-playing betas. The difference was that one liked to play alpha; the other could actually take an alpha’s place, should the alpha and pack need it. Billy was his mom’s beta and proud of it.</p><p>“Name’s Billy.”</p><p>“Tommy.” He held his hand out, which Billy pointedly ignored in favor of analyzing the books already in his locker. The guy quickly retracted his hand and observed, “Books are provided. Even though no one uses them. We’re more tactile learners, right?”</p><p>Billy met his gaze again. “I suggest that this is the first and last time you make assumptions about me.”</p><p>He shut the door with two books under his arm—</p><p>“You won’t need those. First period for all wolves is outside.”</p><p>“Some of us actually enjoy literacy,” he remarked, deadpan as Tommy followed behind him.</p><p>“Fair enough. Can I ask where you’re from?”</p><p>“California.”</p><p>“North or south?”</p><p>“South.”</p><p>“Ooo, you’re used to dry, sun, and surf. Summers get real hot here, though, so you’ll feel at home soon.”</p><p>Something dark moved in Billy’s chest as he reached for the pendant he wore: a golden saint lying underneath a piece of sea glass. Cloudy and the same blue as his eyes, Billy missed the sea. He missed its salt, he missed the smell of baking sand, even the rot of seaweed. His mother insisted that inland humidity and mud and grass would be good for him. He had yet to admit to her that he’d enjoyed their run last night, but then again, it had been interrupted by a monumental discovery.</p><p>“I’ve got some classes with witches. Tell me about ‘em.”</p><p>Far from deterred at the subject change, Tommy shrugged. “Not much to say. Some are cool, some are lame. I used to pal around with a witch last year, but then he turned lame for his girl. But that’s old drama, and it was pointless anyway. They broke up, but the boards haven’t changed yet.”</p><p>Billy peeked at him. “Boards?”</p><p>Tommy waved him to follow. They went upstairs, which changed mildly in layout. Much more like the inside of a home or palace, the hallways were narrower and maze-like. It was intimate, but the stairs fed into a circular area where all the hallways converged. Many groups of students stood around, chatting before class, as well as sitting on the floor. Tommy brought him to the wall, where a corkboard was framed with tarot cards and rows of photographs were labeled with calligraphic names and more cards…</p><p>Right in the center were a smiling young man and woman.</p><p>Billy frowned, unsure why he couldn’t look away from—</p><p>His heart stopped, and when it picked back up, it was loud against his ribs. He leaned forward to read the script:</p><p>
  <em>Steve Harrington.</em>
</p><p><em>Steve…</em> pulsed in his brain as Tommy spoke, “King of the school and Miss Priss. I never shared what he saw in Wheeler, but you won’t interact with witches without hearing of these two, so…”</p><p>He shrugged, but Billy recalibrated details in his mind, breathing through his nose for control. <em>Broke up. They broke up. The boards haven’t changed.</em></p><p>His fingertips landed on the tarot cards pinned over the corners of their pictures. “King and Queen of Wands. What’s that mean?”</p><p>Tommy barked a rude sound. “You think I know? I always thought tarot were just superstitious bullshit for party tricks.”</p><p>“You called him the king of the school…why?”</p><p>“Steve used to be cool. But she changed him. Then she dumped him for some loser, and Steve’s like…the babysitter for the town now or something. I don’t know. As I said, he and I haven’t been friends for a while.”</p><p>Billy unpinned the King of Wands card, looking at its front and back. “What’s his schedule?”</p><p>“Why do you care?”</p><p>“I like to keep track of the alphas.”</p><p>Tommy didn’t answer right away but ultimately relented, “You can’t miss him. His hair gives him an extra inch and a half and he’s usually eating something. Witches go through as many calories as we do, but he skips class half the time, so no one really knows his schedule. Hey, Carol!”</p><p>Billy glanced in the direction that had distracted Tommy, and took advantage to unpin Steve’s photo as well. Safe in his pocket, Billy weathered through the gum-popping introduction to Tommy’s girlfriend before losing them in the library.</p><p>The long room was lined with high windows for a lot of natural light, and Billy couldn’t believe his luck at finding none other than Nancy Wheeler sitting at one of the tables. She smiled and laughed softly with a skinny guy who surprised Billy by smelling like an alpha wolf. He didn’t look Were, nor like an alpha, and he only lifted his gaze to Billy when they scented each other.</p><p>The guy waved. Freaking <em>waved</em>.</p><p>Billy lifted his jaw in a polite acknowledgement, and then went to find a place to read before class in peace. There were only so many new smells a guy could take in one day.</p><p>His ears perked up at Nancy asking, “Do you know him?”</p><p>“No, I don’t think so,” the guy answered, soft spoken. “But he’s a wolf.”</p><p>“Oh. Cool. Just to finish a train of thought, what I was saying about…”</p><p>Billy could only shake his head. <em>This is a lot different.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>No Neil because fuck that guy.</p><p>King of Wands meaning is a leader, capable of overcoming challenges, and good at looking at the big picture (upside-down is impulsive, over-bearing, and unachievable expectations).</p><p>Queen of Wands meaning is figure of courage, joy, and determination (upside-down is selfishness, jealousy, and insecurities).</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://twitter.com/Pondermoniums">Twitter~</a><br/><a href="http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/">Tumblr~</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. One to Ten</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you all again SO MUCH for the kind reception of this fic!!! I have real world stuff to do, so chapters will slow down, but I'm suffering to step away from these boys haha</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The only indication that his mother was adjusting to their new environment came in the form of the house smelling rich with herbs when he got home. It felt like summer with the oven and stoves on. Alpha had the habit of stress cooking.</p><p>“Mom! Mom?”</p><p>“In here! What’s up?” She met him with a dishtowel in hand, wiping her fingers clean of butter. “How was your first day? How’s Max?”</p><p>“She’s fine. It’s all fine,” he rushed while trying to carefully fish out the items in his pocket. “I found him.”</p><p>“Yeah?” She grinned and pivoted to stand beside him to see the picture. “He’s cute.”</p><p>“Mom.”</p><p>She huffed a laugh. “You’re right, he’s very handsome—”</p><p>He lowered the picture to stare chidingly at her, but she caught his hand and lifted it back up. “What’s his name?”</p><p>Billy hesitated, part of him wanting to keep every bit of his mate to himself. Another part wanted to charge through the town until he found him and claimed him.</p><p>“Steve…Harrington. Apparently he’s popular or something. This was on a board in the halls. Do you know anything about tarot cards?”</p><p>She shook her head. “An old friend used to play around with readings, but I never learned about it. Why do you ask?”</p><p>Billy showed her the King of Wands. “All the pictures were with one of these cards. I don’t know if it’s some kind of award system, or what.”</p><p>“Well, it’s nice that you’ve developed klepto tendencies on your first day,” she declared. Handing back the card, she touched his shoulder before returning to the kitchen. “Were you able to meet him?”</p><p>“No, but I heard he skips class, so I’ve got a hunt on my hands.” Far from haughty or fatigued, Billy sounded winded with relish. He liked a good hunt.</p><p>“Oh. How diligent,” she smirked while tossing things around a skillet. “But remember what happened last night. He might’ve been out today to recover.”</p><p>Billy grimaced from where he pulled out a chair at the table. “Recovering? He’s a witch, he doesn’t need to recover.”</p><p>His mother smiled like only a mom could. “Baby, he’s a little more breakable than we are. He took quite a fall last night. Give him time.”</p><p>* * *</p><p>Steve tried to walk and blow on his tea and sip at the same time. He moved at a snail’s pace to accomplish it all. Even after a full day of rest, and oversleeping this morning, he felt like a hurricane had had its way with him. What he really needed was coffee, but when it came to healing and just generally being nice to himself, tea was the potion he knew best. He could feel it scalding through his insides the same way a hot bath loosens muscles—</p><p>“Steve! Hey, Steve!”</p><p>He didn’t even look up. He just kept moving over the parking lot, doing his best to ignore the class change allowing one Dustin Henderson to catch sight of him. “Steve!”</p><p>He waved, but more along the lines of swatting a gnat away from his ear. Dustin’s footfalls landed beside him, and he was already thinking a hundred miles an hour. “So I went over everything, and I’m pretty sure I figured out where we messed up—”</p><p>“Nuh uh. Get somebody else.”</p><p>“What? No way! We were so close!”</p><p>Steve finally stopped and gave the sunglasses on his hair a flick so they landed on his nose. It was too damn bright outside. “Close to what? I’m done doing favors for you. Find somebody else. Nancy is a great option. Or a freaking animal control officer.”</p><p>“<em>Steve</em>, I’m sure of a solution! We just need to adjust—”</p><p>“Adjust nothing,” he cut off. “I almost died, broke my mom’s broom, and got molested by a werewolf.”</p><p>Dustin giggled despite himself. “Wait, really? Who was it? How’d they get the jump on you?”</p><p>Steve moved his thermos through the air as he declared, “I don’t know, maybe it was after I crashed while searching for <em>your</em> stupid lab experiment.”</p><p>“D’art is more than an experiment! He’s my familiar!”</p><p>“<em>Dustin</em>,” Steve whined. “Just because you want the thing to be your familiar, doesn’t mean <em>he</em> wants to be. Frankly he seemed more interested in eating every opossum in the state. By now he probably has. Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but why on earth do you need a carnivore as a familiar?”</p><p>“Cats are obligate carnivores,” Dustin countered.</p><p>“Cats are nice and soft!” Steve all but shrieked. “Your lizard <em>thing</em> has no evolutionary experience with people!”</p><p>“You know, you sound smarter when you’re angry.”</p><p>Steve loved the kid, but that only fueled the urge to brain Dustin with his thermos. At least the freshman was smart enough to piece that together himself, because he quickly defended, “<em>Listen</em>. I hear you, and I’m not disagreeing with you, but that doesn’t invalidate D’art’s ability to be an awesome familiar—or at the very least, a respected animal.”</p><p>Steve sighed at the sky and seriously considered calling his mother to pick him back up. Or perhaps rewinding time so that he could’ve driven here himself.</p><p>Dustin continued, “Steve, come on, he’s cold blooded, he’s blind, he’s scared! We need to find him—”</p><p>“That’s another thing,” Steve curtailed. “He’s blind. You have no experience using familiars with echolocation.”</p><p>“Robin does.”</p><p>“<em>Robin</em> uses <em>bats</em>. Soft, benevolent <em>bats</em>! And she’s a band geek! She’s predesigned to understand sound wave stuff.”</p><p>“I don’t appreciate this total lack of faith in me, Steve!”</p><p>The latter marched his ass toward the taller building with Dustin hot on his heels. He spoke before the kid could raise an argument that Steve was unable to fight. “Go. To. Nancy. She and Jonathan can sniff him out, and I don’t have to break any bones.”</p><p>That gave Dustin pause. “You have broken bones?”</p><p>Steve sighed long and slow as he moved to his cabinet. He folded his glasses to hang them on a hook while he set his thermos on a leaning stack of books he rarely touched. He began rummaging through a couple of hanging bouquets of flowers and herbs.</p><p>“No…by some miracle. It wouldn’t surprise me if my mom enchanted the broom for some damage control, but did you know you can dislocate ribs?”</p><p>Dustin’s eyes darted around the interior of the cabinet. “Uh. No.”</p><p>“Me neither!” he piped, slamming a funnel over the tiny opening of a vial. Petals and leaves crackled in his grip before sliding through the funnel. He paused to inhale the gentle, warm and floral aroma of red hibiscus petals before those went into the tiny jar.</p><p>“That’s not a healing blend,” Dustin commented, the question in his tone.</p><p>“I like the smell. I’m improvising.”</p><p>“For what, a date? Hibiscus is for love potions.”</p><p>He frowned at Steve’s raised and threatening finger wavering in the air as if Steve were biding time for words. When none came, he merely poked Dustin’s nose and refocused on his task. “It’s a lucky flower, that’s all.”</p><p>“Yeah, to get lucky,” he snickered, crossing his arms but observing with open intrigue.</p><p>“If that’s how it worked, you’d stop seeing roses at prom.”</p><p>Dustin gave that some thought while he gazed at passersby. “I guess you have a point.”</p><p>Steve nodded at him and finished off his jar with a couple of black pepper berries before he startled the kid by lighting a match. Carefully waving the flame around the interior of his locker, he cleansed the space with the tiny stick of pine, and then blew it out, making sure the smoke went over the opening of the vial. Off a sticker sheet, he peeled a label for the bottle and used the sooty end to draw a sigil: the Futhark rune <em>Sowilo</em>; three strokes that wrote like a jagged <em>S</em>.</p><p>“Hey—you—douchebag,” Dustin cursed when Steve rubbed the rest of the match along the length of his arm.</p><p>Laughing to himself, Steve used scissors to cut off the charred end and dropped the pine stick into the jar. He held it out for Dustin to smell the contents. “Nice, right?”</p><p>“Mmm…yeah,” he smiled. “I prefer sweet stuff, but that’s not bad. Fresh is better than spice. I can’t stand cloves. Old ladies smell like cloves.”</p><p>“Hey, man, don’t talk about your mom like that.”</p><p>“Shut up,” Dustin grinned.</p><p>Steve smirked with him as he capped off the jar with a cork already on a silk, black cord. He tied it behind his neck and tucked the jar under his shirt as he said, “For real, though, steer clear of Mrs. Click. Her nose is bad so all she uses is clove incense.”</p><p>“Ugh.”</p><p>“Unless you’ve got a little green stuff to indulge in beforehand,” Steve enticed in a high whiny. “Takes the edge off…”</p><p>“Yeah? Does it wear off before my mom loses her shit?”</p><p>“Oh please, I’ve seen your mom smoke the flowers. She doesn’t mess around—”</p><p>Steve’s back all but slammed against the cabinets before he knew what was happening. The hands that turned him around had already let him go, only to frame him against the wall. A dark blond guy blatantly dragged his gaze over him. Steve felt oddly naked and pinned in place by blue eyes and dark lashes as he heard, “You’re familiar.”</p><p>Steve’s features illustrated his brain’s failure to compute whatever the hell that meant. “<em>What?</em> ”</p><p>Dustin provided, “Who the hell are you?”</p><p>The guy smiled, but remained pointed at Steve. “Billy Hargrove.”</p><p>He eased back enough to give room for an offered hand. Steve peered down at it with visible mistrust. “Okay…?”</p><p>Dustin agreed, “Are we suppose to know you or something?”</p><p>Billy’s eyes slid onto him in a dismissive glance. “Not you. You can leave, runt.”</p><p>Steve’s hands planted against his chest, moving him back a step. “Who are you to talk to him like that? If you’ve got beef with me, speak up.”</p><p>Well now the guy just looked <em>thrilled</em>, which made Steve and Dustin stare at him like he had opened a third eye. He took one of Steve’s hands and placed it back on his chest—bare skin underneath a poorly buttoned shirt, as if he’d rushed after the wolves’ first period gym class.</p><p>“My name’s Billy. You should remember that.”</p><p>Steve didn’t have the time to process that. Billy’s heartbeat kissed underneath his fingers as Dustin exclaimed, “Wait a minute. You’re a wolf we don’t know. What were you doing the night before last?”</p><p>Billy’s smile softened. “Watching a pretty boy fall out of the sky. You’re my mate, Steve.”</p><p>He blinked, but didn’t bother asking how Billy already knew his name. “Do you say that to all the doe-eyed witches you step on?”</p><p>The grin flashed once more before it faltered, and faded. “No. Just you.”</p><p>Steve’s jaw slid to the side a little as he absorbed that and said flatly, “Okay…nice to meet you.”</p><p>He took his hand back and rotated to clean up the mess in his cabinet. He tried and failed to ignore Billy leaning against the wall beside him. “What’s your schedule?” he purred.</p><p>Steve glanced at him with suspicion in his voice. “Why do you ask?”</p><p>Billy’s hard stare weighed heavily on him for a long second. Then he huffed, “You don’t believe me.”</p><p>Before Steve could ask what he meant, Dustin intercepted, “That he’s your mate? Aren’t those, like, a myth or some—?”</p><p>Billy growled deep in his chest.</p><p>“—Bye, Steve.”</p><p>He turned tail and disappeared easily within the crowds passing by, leaving Steve to sigh into his wooden locker. To whatever merciful deity existed, he lamented quietly, “I should’ve stayed home today.”</p><p>“I’m glad you didn’t,” Billy’s tone brightened. He knocked his knee against Steve’s leg. “What’s your last class? Give me that at least?”</p><p>Steve sighed again as he reached for his thermos. He drank slow gulps for patience and rejuvenation before asking, “Why? You’re the creep who licked my neck.”</p><p>Billy tipped his head in acquiescence. “I got a little excited.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, I’m injured. So whatever this is, on a scale of one to ten, bring it down to a nine, because your seventeen is going to make me bust a rib.”</p><p>“One to ten,” Billy scoffed, but he was genuinely amused. “That sounds restrictive…”</p><p>Steve smacked his hand away from where Billy was pulling his collar down to see the vial hanging there. He got a glimpse of another, silver chain as well, but whatever hung from it was lower on Steve’s body. The t-shirt snapped back over the lump while he asked, “What’s that for?”</p><p>Steve left the small pile of debris in the corner of the cabinet for a later time. “It’s really none of your business.” He locked the door with a notebook under his arm and finished, “But it’s less exciting than you think.”</p><p>Billy followed behind him, admittedly providing a nice barrier for Steve to sip his tea without getting bumped on one side. “Maybe you’ll tell me during one of our classes. There’s bound to be one or two.”</p><p>“Don’t count on it.”</p><p>“Why not?” he frowned, evening his stride beside Steve on the stairs. Much to the annoyance of other people trying to use the stairs.</p><p>“I have different classes, that’s all.”</p><p>“The way I’ve heard it, you skip half of those classes.”</p><p>“Whatever you want to believe.”</p><p>“I want to believe what you tell me. What’s the deal with the bulletin boards? Why are you the King of Wands?”</p><p>Steve grimaced at him in the circular room beyond the landing, but not for long since they had to navigate the crowd. “So you’re stalking me?”</p><p>“Your face is on <em>every</em> board. You’re hard to miss. It can’t be a secret; you’re just being ornery.”</p><p>Steve exhaled as he turned a corner, but Billy looked around the colonnade he guided him into. The long hallway was technically outside, but the school wall stood on one side and columns framed them in on the other. A flight of stairs on the other end curved up and out of sight, leading to the dome structure.</p><p>“It’s just a thing the teachers do. Like awards in elementary school. It’s not a big deal.”</p><p>“Aw. That’s cute.”</p><p>“Don’t patronize me,” Steve glared tiredly at him.</p><p>“Do you really use wands?”</p><p>“Yes and no. It’s not really my thing.”</p><p>“What’s your thing?”</p><p>“When I’m not getting molested at 3a.m. by wolves, it’s flying.”</p><p>“I didn’t mol—only a little bit,” Billy admitted. Conversation paused as they meandered up the stairs. This level of the dome was furnished with chairs and benches for people to sit for the view.</p><p>Steve turned to him to ask, “What actually happened? Who tackled you?”</p><p>Billy couldn’t help but huff a laugh. “My mom. She’s pack alpha.”</p><p>“Oh,” Steve absorbed. “Tell her thanks from me.”</p><p>“You can tell her yourself. Better yet, you can do whatever witches do to piece together who their own soul mates are. How does that work?”</p><p>Steve stopped walking. Those large eyes looked even more tilted as he frowned at Billy. His irises wandered as if he were deliberating between action or words. Eventually he could only utter softly, “That’s private.”</p><p>Billy nodded gently, far from wanting to scare or piss off his mate enough to separate them after one conversation. The voice of reason in his brain—which sounded annoyingly like his mother—told him that Steve was not wrong to behave this way to a stranger.</p><p><em>I can work for it</em>, he crooned to himself—</p><p>Something flew past Billy’s periphery the same time Steve lurched forward. “OW! Son of a—what the hell is…?”</p><p>He looked over his shoulder and tried to pull on his shirt to make the sharp, furry creature stuck to the fabric more visible. Billy openly gaped at the rather small, brown creature with <em>big</em>, fleshy, black wings. “That’s a bat.”</p><p>Steve began prying claws out of his shirt, cursing under his breath but gradually getting louder. “Ugh—shit’s sake, you little prick, let go—ROBIN!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Familiars will be explained more in the next one &lt;3</p><p>And yes, I am that person who looks up the witchcraft significance of these things lol Sowilo is the rune for healing, as well as the symbol for the sun~ lots of sun/star symbolism haha</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://twitter.com/Pondermoniums">Twitter~</a><br/><a href="http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/">Tumblr~</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve marched into a…Billy didn’t know what to call it. An animal nursery, he supposed, but with the bat hanging from his fingers by its clawed feet. It swung rather contently, considering how it landed on Steve’s back moments before.</p><p>“Robin!”</p><p>“Finally gracing us? About time.”</p><p>Billy’s gaze stopped wandering the greenhouse-like room to land on the witch taking her bat from Steve. More than bats occupied the space, hanging in their cubicle-sized cages like an upside-down, silent disco. They were not in the main part of the dome, but birds came and went from the open windows lining the rafters above their heads. Most notably: crows. But many others perched or hosted minute tantrums over spots in the rafters; such as mocking birds, a bright cardinal, and a bluebird slumbered between two owls.</p><p>The witch with highlighted, bobbed hair deposited her familiar so he could join his brothers amongst the hanging toys and fruit treats. “Wanna tell me why you missed the best class of the day?”</p><p>Steve scoffed with a dubious eye on the rafters, “Yeah, because I love being shit on first thing in the morning.”</p><p>Robin shut the door of the spacious cage—the bats were swaying in their own condominium in there—and turned to Billy. “Who’s he?”</p><p>Steve glanced at him like a pesky after thought. “Oh, it’s Billy. He’s new.”</p><p>“And wolf,” he answered for himself. He didn’t mind one bit that the witch didn’t come forward for a handshake, and he soon understood why.</p><p>Her dark blue eyes moved a little warily over the roosting occupants. “Ah…don’t take this the wrong way, but wolves aren’t usually allowed in here.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he agreed with a smirk, “little ones spook around our smell. Not crows, though.”</p><p>He let another minute pass while watching the crowd of black eyes and feathers gleaming blue in the morning light. The witch provided, “Corvids and wolves have a symbiotic relationship in the wild. Which lets us practice with them without them or the wolves going nuts.”</p><p>Billy leveled a gaze of scrutiny at her, for which Steve supplied, “Billy, Robin. Robin, Billy.”</p><p>His eyes widened the same moment she raised a warning finger and declared with a poisonous smile, “One joke about my name in a room full of birds, and you’ll shit feathers for a week, wolf boy.”</p><p>He sensibly kept his mouth shut, but could not help but ask, “Can you really do that?”</p><p>Steve answered, “Yes and no. Did you handle mine for me?”</p><p>Billy frowned at the both of them moving down the long table in the center of the room. “Could you explain the <em>yes</em> part of that?”</p><p>They ignored him. While looking up at a particularly large crow in the rafters with white tips on one of his wings, Robin chimed, “You’ll be happy to know your feathery bastard completely ignored your absence.”</p><p>Steve pointed a mirthless smile at her. “Great. Thanks. I’m out of here, then.”</p><p>The wolf sighed and projected his voice to not go unanswered, “What class is this, exactly?”</p><p>Robin’s hair swished around her face as she turned back to him. “It’s like how you guys exercise in the morning, right? Birds are more active in the morning before they sleep during the day. So we get some class time in beforehand. Well. When we show up.”</p><p>Steve finished writing on a clipboard that looked like some kind of log from where Billy stood, but he tossed the pencil onto the table with a glare to Robin. “I’ve had a familiar since I was eight, thank you very much. I don’t need this. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m spending the next period with the nurse.”</p><p>Robin’s swagger melted off her face. “Is it that bad? I mean, you were gone all of yesterday, but I knew something was up when you didn’t even come to yoga last night.”</p><p>Billy let all of his amusement over Robin’s name burst out at that. “<em>Yoga?</em> Are you serious?”</p><p>Robin let exactly what she felt about his amusement infuse her face before following Steve out of the nursery—aviary? Did bats count towards that?</p><p>Nevertheless, Billy followed to yet another area of the building he had not seen. The witches really had a load of commodities up here.</p><p>“I dislocated some ribs while flying,” Steve informed. “Or…landing. My mom helped me, but I can either get help here, or have my dad lose his mind at the hospital.”</p><p>“Yeah, I don’t think Dr. H. wouldn’t lighten up about you flying if he knew about a crash landing. So Dustin’s adventure was a bust?”</p><p>“I wouldn’t say that,” Billy crooned.</p><p>Robin glanced back at him, but Steve groaned while opening a door, “Ignore him.”</p><p>Billy…didn’t like that at all. But he pointed a smirk at her while taking the role of holding the door. They followed Steve into a square room that was similar to the rest of the place: well lit with high windows, and some sort of marble or granite underfoot. But this room seemed…particularly dark compared to the others. Dark walls, like slate.</p><p>“Shouldn’t this be bigger if other people are injured?”</p><p>Robin answered while crossing her arms, “Various rooms are used for solo appointments. The main ward is downstairs. East side.”</p><p>“Uh huh,” he exhaled, likewise crossing his arms as a pair of older witches emerged through another door.</p><p>“Mr. Harrington, good morning. Your mother already filled us in. Are you comfortable with your friends being here?”</p><p>Steve wiggled his butt up onto a cushioned bench in the center of the room, setting his tea beside his hip. “It’s fine. At this point, I just want to breathe without feeling like a yawn is going to break something.”</p><p>The man nodded while his counterpart raised her hands and the windows tilted in such a way that they severed the stream of light coming into the room. The light dimmed by two-thirds, but Billy’s eyes easily adjusted to see Steve lifting his shirt before both nurses helped him out of it to avoid further pain. The crowd around him blocked Billy’s view, but he could see Steve removing the vial from his neck. He held it between his hands, turning it over and over so the peppercorns rattled inside.</p><p>The woman folded his shirt to rest beside his thermos while the other nurse stepped aside to do something… But Billy’s gaze did not linger on the skin of his mate. It landed on the second necklace around his neck, hanging midway down his torso. Because from the silver chain hung an ovular mirror, the size of a coin, that sparked off what little light seeped through the windows. He gingerly moved it to rest on his shoulder instead of removing it.</p><p>Billy decided to not ask about it now. He might not have gotten an answer, for in the next moment, the nurses stood on either side of Steve and held their hands up like he was a radiator and their hands were cold.</p><p>Except Steve started to glow red. The kind of red that the fingertips have when light passes through them.</p><p>And then…purple and maroon and pink clouds began to emerge on his skin.</p><p>No.</p><p>Under it.</p><p>Billy’s sheer befuddlement and Steve’s complete calm were the only things that kept the wolf in check. Steve even raised a hand to rake his hair off his face, utterly nonchalant during this magical x-ray. Billy’s weight shifted over his legs. He just wanted to know what his mate’s tongue tasted like, not what his organs looked like.</p><p>Whatever magical light the nurses were putting inside him shifted, rising to focus on his ribs and…his beating heart.</p><p>Steve was the one looking translucent on the table, but Billy felt more vulnerable than he’d ever had in the safe shadows.</p><p><em>That heartbeat might as well be my own</em>, he ruminated before he realized his own thoughts.</p><p>“No bruising on your lungs, which is great,” said the woman, snapping Billy out of his own head.</p><p>The man agreed, “I see the dislocation spots. Your mother did solid work on you, though. Good news: the danger is past. Less good news: healing is the painful part. But we can give you safe means of relieving it.”</p><p>Their hands lowered and Steve’s body faded back to his normal, opaque state. The woman touched his shirt and said, “I can ready one of the baths for you, or you can take a potion.”</p><p>“Bath,” he answered quickly and nodded with a nervous laugh. “Bath, please.”</p><p>The man looked up from something he was writing. “You sure? Potions are faster.”</p><p>Robin laughed, intercepting, “No offense, Mr. Clark, but your potions are kind of lethal in the taste department.”</p><p>He smiled and relinquished, “Bath it is. I’ll send you off with a list and instructions for making another soak this evening, and any day you need it.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Steve exhaled, planting a hand on the bench to ease himself down. The dim light slid right down the curve of his spine, and Billy followed it.</p><p>
  <em>Yoga, huh?</em>
</p><p>Robin bumped his arm. “This is where we leave.”</p><p>He lifted his hand like a visor against the daylight, but adjusted just as swiftly. “I didn’t think you could just take baths on campus.”</p><p>“People get injured,” she shrugged. He followed her blindly, since he was certainly late enough to just skip the current class period. “And you can’t really predict how with this crowd. They’re ready for just about anything.”</p><p>“But…his dad’s a doctor?”</p><p>She looked at him to gauge his sincerity before replying, “You <em>are</em> new. Yeah, both the Harringtons are doctors, but his dad’s human. His <em>mom</em> is the High Priestess.”</p><p>Billy’s lashes fell to half-mast. “Is that another tarot card?”</p><p>She led them back to the gallery where her bat had initially flown into Steve’s shoulder blades. She plopped down into a seat and opened her bag for a lunch box. “Different places call the position different things. In your lingo, she’s <em>pack alpha</em>.”</p><p>He settled in a lounge chair next to her and looked out over the treetops. “This place operates differently than where I grew up. You have different packs all in one place; not one alpha running things.”</p><p>She visibly processed that with a cheek full of sandwich. “Well, yeah,” she said around it, “that’s how packs are in the wild. Big groups of wolves are individual families working and living together. You know, laymen call that a community.”</p><p>His eyes slid sideways to her the way Max’s do when she’s not feeling rude enough to roll them. “You do realize we’re not actually wild wolves, right?”</p><p>“Sure, but from your history, you guys really could’ve taken lessons from actual wolves.”</p><p>“Are we really about to debate witch over wolf right now?”</p><p>“I’m too hungry for that,” she declined, and pulled open a bag of barbecue chips. She ate surprisingly neatly despite talking while she chewed. “But if you wanted to know whether there’s more than one priestess, the answer’s yes, but Dr. Harrington is still the biggie.”</p><p>He sniffed, eyeing her chips wondering how receptive his mother would be about making barbecue tonight. “Why’s that?”</p><p>Robin laughed, making Billy feel annoyingly ignorant. “The Harringtons have money, so they’re well-traveled. But to illustrate it a bit easier, I imagine Dr. H—the Mrs.—is like meeting an alpha who just…radiates a certain energy. Like, those prime alphas.”</p><p>Billy blinked hard and refocused fresh eyes on her. “You’ve read our books.”</p><p>“Yeah, they’re fun,” she chirped, like Were lore was just a casual novel series. “They’re in the literature curriculum, so every year, the kids work on a giant chalk mural in the parking lot for your Supermoon festivals.”</p><p>Now <em>that</em>…was something Billy didn’t know he needed to hear. Supermoons are when the moon is both closest to the earth, and within its fullest phase. April and May were a special time for wolves, because they both typically held these special full moons.</p><p>“You celebrate Supermoons here?”</p><p>Robin stopped chewing to ask incredulously, “Where did you grow up? With humans?”</p><p>Billy didn’t really feel like answering that, and perhaps his silence encouraged Robin to realize she had asked something a bit personal. Instead of waiting for an answer, she continued, “It’s an easy way to integrate kids, since our holidays overlap a lot of the time. Supermoons flanking Beltane is a hell of a time.”</p><p>Billy couldn’t help but grin at that. Beltane. Otherwise known as witch Valentine’s Day. Or for the more Christian inclined: Walpurgis Night. Though the saintly would never admit they actually feast during a holiday celebrating sex.</p><p>“Walpurgisnacht,” he recalled from his own time spent with literature.</p><p>“Gut gemacht,” Robin chimed with a lift of her sandwich as if to cheers him for something.</p><p>Billy wondered how far he could pick her brain before she sassed his hackles up. He had to remind himself to exercise patience. But in times like these, he usually found a quiet place to read and smoke. It wasn’t necessarily that he’d made a commitment to quitting, but during the move and then witnessing his mate falling out of the sky, the habit had taken a backseat over the last couple of months.</p><p>Robin interrupted his thoughts with, “What class are you meant to be in right now?”</p><p>“Meta Bio.” Short for <em>Metamorphosis Biology</em>. “But I’m halfway through the textbook already. It’ll be fine. What is a witch’s schedule like?”</p><p>Her lined eyes outright rolled. “It’s not as self-catering as yours. Weres’ schedules are catered to their energy levels—high energy in the morning and chill for the rest of the day. Ours are designed around the times of day, week, and month. Morning or evening goes to our familiars, and since it’s the spring semester, there’s a lot of almanac stuff to get done.”</p><p>“Stargazing?”</p><p>She nodded, cleaning her teeth with her tongue. “For some people. It’s not my thing. All of our schedules are a bit different, depending on our strengths.”</p><p>
  <em>Maybe you’ll tell me during one of our classes. There’s bound to be one or two.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Don’t count on it.</em>
</p><p>Steve’s response made more sense now.</p><p>“If you’re scheduled with your familiars in the morning, then…yoga at night?”</p><p>She shrugged like it was inconsequential. “You have gym in the morning. We have ours at night. Is yoga too bendy for you?”</p><p>He held up a hand in mild defense. “Watch it. I’m from California. There are always at least fifty of those people on the beach at all times.”</p><p>Her head tilted at him. “And yet you’d break like a stale pretzel.”</p><p>He held the tip of his tongue between his teeth. Okay, so flexibility wasn’t his thing, but he more than made up for it in strength and speed.</p><p>Billy switched gears with, “So Steve likes yoga if that’s what dropped the red flag for you.”</p><p>“Oh yeah. He never misses it.”</p><p>“A guy named Tommy said he’s likely to miss classes as often as attend them.”</p><p>“Tommy Hagan?” Robin all but gagged around his name. “Tommy H. of all people is the least likely to know or care about witches’ schedules.”</p><p>Then she sighed, “But I can’t even blame him for thinking that. Steve is exemplary in being late to things. And we break for the whole afternoon before evening classes, so it does look like a lot of us skip most of the time. So when are you going to tell me why you’re poking your nose in Steve’s business.”</p><p>He raised a brow at her. “Wording, please.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>However, he realized what time it must be if Steve missed first period, and now spend the second in the nurse’s office… “Wait. So you’re both done until tonight?”</p><p>She gave it a second of thought and nodded. “Pretty much. That doesn’t always mean we leave campus, but Steve probably will for his recovery.”</p><p>Billy mulled over that long enough for Robin’s next opportunity to speak being, “Well, speak of the witch.”</p><p>Billy’s head turned in the direction she spoke, and found Steve lethargically sauntering toward them. Red cheeked with the hair on his nape still wet, he smiled just as a man fresh out of a hot bath would. He waved the hand which held the thermos, “Hey.”</p><p>The wolf in Billy wanted to spring to his feet, tail wagging and press his nose against that hot skin, feel his temperature and smell that he was all right. As he was, though, Billy sat up on the edge of his seat, attentive as Steve came to a stop. A decently sized, cheesecloth sack rustled under his arm with his notebook. With two pairs of eyes on it, Steve explained, “A soak for the road.”</p><p>“What’s in it?” Billy asked. Something in his chest wiggled warmly as Steve let him take the parcel and give it a sniff.</p><p>“Rice. Eucalyptus. Epsom Salt. Other stuff.”</p><p>Billy lifted his nose. “Rice?”</p><p>“It’s good for your skin.”</p><p>Robin asked, “You leaving?”</p><p>“Yeah, my mom’s already on her way.”</p><p>Billy returned the sack as she reminded, “Don’t forget we have a meeting on Friday.”</p><p>Steve’s head lolled on his shoulders as he started toward the stairs. “What was the last one for?”</p><p>Robin stood with her bag to walk with him. Billy, naturally, followed. “The toilets flushing with melted ice cream instead of water.”</p><p>“Colorful,” the Were said dryly.</p><p>“It was fun at first,” Robin agreed. “Except milk sours. You can’t miss this one, Steve. Nothing’s wrong, so it must be the school planning something.”</p><p>“I’m not on any committee,” he said over his shoulder as he navigated the stairs.</p><p>Robin laughed, “I love how you’re not even pretending to be in line for a priest position.”</p><p>Steve threw a puzzled grimace over his shoulder as they strolled through the colonnade. “Because I’m not. <em>Way</em> too celibate for me.”</p><p>Billy guffawed while Robin’s eyes rolled, both of them knowing celibacy had nothing to do with it since his own mother was a so-called <em>priestess</em>.</p><p>They reached the parking lot soon enough, Steve taking a seat on the pavement while Billy followed Robin toward the cars to see if he could find his lost pack of cigarettes. “So what do you witches get up to for fun in this place if you’re free until tonight?”</p><p>Robin smirked from where she dumped her bag in her car. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”</p><p>Billy’s tongue moved over his teeth with a click sound. <em>Witches.</em></p><p>However, his ears pricked at the distinct sound of a cat’s meow. He rotated to see a black cat emerging from the trees lining the edge of their campus—trotting over the pavement directly to Steve. Billy sent a raised brow toward Robin. “That’s not his mother, is it?”</p><p>Her face lifted to the sky with her laughter. “No! That’s his familiar. Valid question, though.”</p><p>He glanced back to see the creature almost aggressively rubbing itself along Steve’s body. A much warmer reception than his classroom crow had given him. Billy briefly wondered if that was odd, considering Steve liked flying. Or maybe crows were just standoffish. Shaking his head, he dived back into his car to throw around various flotsam and jetsam from their move that hadn’t made it into the house. When he finally uncovered the flattened box, he had two cigarettes to his name.</p><p>“Good enough,” he exhaled, and dug out his lighter from a cup holder. Standing up and cupping his hand around the flame, the tobacco fragrance was a familiar comfort more than anything…</p><p>Billy peeked back at Steve, and found not one, but two cats on his lap. Billy leaned against his car, surveying the black cat tucked contently between Steve’s raised knees and torso, and the longhaired calico piled on top. Steve’s arms framed them in on his thighs, his gaze elsewhere like he wasn’t bothered in the least.</p><p>He looked up at Robin going back to him, and accepted some sort of granola bar she offered. Billy sauntered over, tapping ash over the pavement as the classes began to change. Not many people came to the parking lot, but the school became a hive of people using the interior and exterior corridors.</p><p>A familiar rattle moved his attention to the vial in Steve’s hands. He stimmed loosely, turning it over one way and then back as he chewed. Then he held the bottle and swung the cord around his fingers, and then swung so it unwrapped.</p><p><em>Fidgety or restless?</em> Billy wondered. It didn’t bother him, so he didn’t ask, and two more people joined them anyway.</p><p>Nancy and her wolf.</p><p>“Steve? Is that…? Gods, I’m sorry.”</p><p>He huffed a laugh as the calico unwillingly moved off his lap. “It’s okay, Nance. Penny knows me.”</p><p>The skinny wolf crouched to greet the cat, “Hey, Penny. Up here,” and scooped her up so he supported her bottom half while the top perched on his shoulder. His gaze flicked up to Billy, and he blinked like it was an accident. But he came forward with an offered hand. “Jonathan.”</p><p>He shook it. “Billy.”</p><p>Nancy waved with a curt, “Nancy,” and intercepted toward Steve, “Are you and Tina okay? We noticed you were gone yesterday.”</p><p>Steve remarked, “You mean <em>everyone</em> noticed.”</p><p>Billy’s gaze sharpened between them. “Tina?”</p><p>Steve pointed down into his lap. Billy’s jaw lifted in an inverted nod. “Ah.”</p><p>The former scratched his cat’s cheeks as he replied, “She’s fine. I’ll just be sore for a few days.”</p><p>Conversation moved to Jonathan asking Billy, “When did you move here? Obviously a small town like this, everyone notices things.”</p><p>Billy exhaled smoke downwind. “Little less than a week ago. We’re on the edge of a Were neighborhood.”</p><p>Jonathan nodded like he already knew exactly where he meant. “My mom, brother, and I live closer to the witch side of town. It’s more comfortable for us.”</p><p>Billy let his face show how impressed he felt. “I’ve never heard a wolf say that.”</p><p>“Well, my brother didn’t get the gene. He’s witch. I’m wolf. Kind of the black sheep of both sides.”</p><p>Nancy reached across him to pet her cat’s fur. “There’s nothing wrong with that—”</p><p>Their heads turned toward a young wolf hollering, “Yo, Harrington! We heard something fancy’s gonna be announced on Friday. Think we get another tournament?”</p><p>Steve merely repeated, “I’m not on any planning committee.”</p><p>Billy asked Jonathan quietly, “Who’s that?” He could see Tommy and Carol watching nearby.</p><p>Jonathan tried to look uninterested as he answered, “Carol’s brother. The girl behind him. He’s a high school junior, I think.”</p><p>Nancy seconded, “He’s still cocky about that basketball game. Who the hell takes intramural stuff seriously?”</p><p>Billy openly stared at her. “Co-ed sports? How do you witches not die playing against wolves?”</p><p>She pointed a dark smile at him. “They play on mixed teams, genius. Rules keep everyone safe. But that asshole nearly made Steve tear his ACL to win the game.”</p><p>Jonathan finished, “His dad’s kept him out of sports ever since.”</p><p>That’s all Billy needed to hear. He wrote off Tommy, Carol, and her shithead brother as lost causes. But it was just like a young wolf to use an overprotective, human parent as some validation of victory. Especially over a witch.</p><p>“Hey, jackass,” he called. “Take a hint before you talk shit. We’re five and you’re barely even three over there. Your shitty betas just want a show.”</p><p>Tommy and Carol’s smirks melted off their faces. The young Were moved a hand through the air as if to gently swat Billy aside. “I just wanna talk. The mighty King Steve has gotten lazy running this place. Like he’s getting old and can’t bounce back like he used to. Heard you were with the nurses this morning. They give you a lollipop when you finished?”</p><p>Steve didn’t stand up. He <em>floated</em> up, his legs easily extending with the pull of gravity so he could stand on his own. Tina trilled, annoyed, at having to get off his lap before outright falling off. The Were’s stance changed, swagger gone and visibly unsure whether to fight or flight. All ears listened to Steve.</p><p>“What do they say? Don’t poke the wolf? Let sleeping dogs lie—” Nancy sent a warning glare at him. Steve ignored her. “—So if a little puppy’s bored, and looking to poke a witch to see what happens, how about you stop talking and <em>fuck around to find out! </em>”</p><p>Nancy audibly sighed and rubbed her forehead. Robin and Jonathan looked equal parts wary and impressed. Billy flicked his cigarette toward the young wolf, letting it burn out on its own. He didn’t feel like he needed it anymore.</p><p>
  <em>My mate’s got fire. Don’t get singed, little shit.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Would you like a serving of King Steve today?</p><p>Okay, more information on familiars in the NEXT one lol Tina's name will be explained later (but it's not really spoiling, so~ ) Steve and fam went to Greece when he was a kid, and this cat just decided that Steve was the king of catfood and gravy. Steve's mom recognized a familiar claiming its witch, and they took her home. He named her after Athena -&gt; Tina.</p><p>I had this name picked out before I distinctly remembered Steve yelling, "I don't care about TINA!" in season 3 lol so he very much cares about a certain Tina this time around, and it's canon for him to yell that name anyways.</p><p>And about Steve making a stim toy~ stim toys are useful for a lot of different mental needs. If you headcanon him as neurodivergent, that's totally fine, but his mental situation will be explained later ~</p><p>  <a href="https://twitter.com/Pondermoniums">Twitter~</a><br/><a href="http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/">Tumblr~</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Perks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was saving this upload as an incentive for finishing work but hi, I'm a mess, but at least I've got witch and werewolf boyfriends.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two things interrupted the moment: a car honking as it pulled into the lot, and Tina’s claws in Steve’s jeans making him exclaim a sound very contrary to the situation. The cat climbed him like a tree so he would hold her like Jonathan held Penny. Robin handed him his notebook like a platter with his thermos and bath soak. “Thanks. See you guys later.”</p><p>He stepped off the pavement with a lingering glance at the wolf, and then at Billy’s cigarette. The crispy tobacco embers burst into small flames that disintegrated on the asphalt just as quickly, but it was enough to keep the wolves on alert. And to make a point.</p><p>The car’s tinted windows kept Billy from seeing this prestigious figure that was Steve’s mother, but he heard the woman’s voice say, “Do I want to know?”</p><p>“Nope,” he chirped, sitting in the front seat with Tina on his lap. The cat planted her paws against the door to watch the world as they drove away.</p><p>* * *</p><p>Billy’s mother took his bag off his shoulder when he entered the house, telling him, “Wash your hands. It’s bread day.”</p><p>“Why am I kneading your stress projects?” he countered, but he smelled the lift of tobacco from his clothes the same time she did.</p><p>“It’s been a while since you smoked. Tough day?”</p><p>He’d recovered from the nurse’s office, but maybe some rough handling of gluten would be a good idea. He informed over the noise of the kitchen sink, “Not really. But seeing Steve’s organs wasn’t a plan I ever had.”</p><p>He turned the sink off the same moment his mother rotated from the cutting board with a dumbfounded vacancy to her eyes. “Unpack that.”</p><p>Billy explained the morning’s events and magical medicine as far as he had seen it. His alpha had the grace to not tell him <em>I told you so</em>, regarding Steve’s injuries, but she snacked on dried cranberries while she absorbed this information. Then she decided, “That’s cool—a shock, absolutely—but interesting. And you’re on speaking terms now. Progress is good.”</p><p>She meant to go back to preparing ingredients for the loaves, but Billy sighed, earning his mother’s silent attention. “I told him. He didn’t believe me.”</p><p>That motherly smile adored her face. “This doesn’t usually happen, starlight. You’re special. Just give Steve time. You have the rest of your lives.”</p><p>He exhaled heavily again, turning toward the pile of flour as well as inward to his thoughts. He folded dough with the bench scraper and pushed with his other hand—</p><p>“Is he nice?” his mother crooned.</p><p>Billy thought back over the day before nodding at the counter. “Yeah. He lightened up after the bath. He’s funny. And real protective of some kid.”</p><p>“Siblings?”</p><p>“They didn’t smell similar, no.”</p><p>Her peeler moved over the orange, zest shavings landing on the cutting board. “Protective is usually a good trait. Even if it’s against you.”</p><p>Billy’s jaw clenched, hearing her subtext. “I got excited.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>* * *</p><p>The sun couldn’t rise fast enough. Billy had never been so impatient to get to school, but thanks to the previous evening, he had a better strategy of courting Steve. Or at the very least, his mother had told what <em>not</em> to do.</p><p>“The witches have evening classes,” he’d said while restlessly moving around the house.</p><p>“Is that interfering with your date ideas?” she’d deciphered.</p><p>Billy indirectly confirmed, “I could pick him up.”</p><p>“How about you ask if you can pick him up first?”</p><p>Billy planted his feet to ruminate on that, his lips pursing to one side. But his mother had been inside his thoughts, and knew when to cut him off.</p><p>“You’re less likely to have awkward encounters—or refusals—if you ask first. And just in general, it’s better not to ambush a person.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t be ambushing anybody.”</p><p>She tactically navigated around that with, “Since he’s missing class to recover, you won’t even know when to pick him up without asking first.”</p><p>A valid point. Which she coupled with, “Did you happen to ask him why he was out so late? Surely his classes don’t go that long.”</p><p>The solution to all of these questions—as well as the burning restlessness he’s been carrying ever since Steve landed in the field—was to spend more time with Steve. Preferably with repetitive circumstances. Picking him up from his evening classes would make an ideal schedule, and an easy segue to a walk through the neighborhood. Or a flight over the town. Billy couldn’t be sure how he felt about heights, but if his mate liked to float, Billy would keep up.</p><p>“Okay, then.”</p><p>Billy snapped out of his thoughts to peer at Max climbing out of the car. “What?”</p><p>“Oh, you weren’t listening.”</p><p>“<em>Max</em>,” he griped impatiently. He slammed his car door and shouldered his bag. “Max!”</p><p>She turned around with raised brows and an open palm. “What?”</p><p>He almost let the brat go to her classes but instead returned, “You sit on a pine cone? What’s your shit?”</p><p>“Doesn’t matter. You clearly have witches on the brain.”</p><p>“The hell does that mean?” But he knew what it meant. “Who told you?”</p><p>“We’re pack, dumbass. Maybe try keeping your brain to yourself.”</p><p>“Keep your nose out of it!”</p><p>“You’re projecting!” she yelled regardless of the very public parking lot.</p><p>“It’s eavesdropping, shit bird!”</p><p>He looked behind him when a voice crooned, “<em>Wow</em>,” and rotated to see Robin strolling towards their building. “A regular, sibling morning?”</p><p>“We’re not siblings,” Billy barked with a glance at Max. Like she knew, she threw up a middle finger without looking as she marched to her side of campus.</p><p>“Yeah, couldn’t fool me,” Robin said with a smile in her voice. “It’s cute. In a totally obnoxious kind of way.”</p><p>Billy disregarded that and instead asked, “When does Steve usually get here?”</p><p>Robin made a face that matched her words, “I’m not his keeper. But he knows I’d curse him if he was late again, so—ah. There he is.”</p><p>Billy followed her gaze and felt his heart tremble in his chest. Steve cruised over the lot on a broom, the device already parallel with the ground as he eased to a stop over the pavement. He dismounted the same way a person would a bicycle before it fully stops, feet landing on the sidewalk as he walked the broom a little ways. He let gravity take one side of it so he held it like a normal, well, broom the same time he spotted Robin and Billy.</p><p>“Do you <em>need</em> to show off everywhere?” Robin declared as Billy followed her over.</p><p>A smile flashed on Steve’s face and Billy thought he might die, just a little bit. “Just because I’m better at flying that you, doesn’t mean you need to get your wings in a bunch.” Steve looked at Billy and quickly explained, “Robin’s been salty ever since I got her familiar out of a basketball net.”</p><p>Billy’s attention had locked onto the broom, however. He reached for it, catching Steve off guard, but he let Billy take it to analyze up close. It was heavier than he expected. The dark wood reminded Billy of a crochet needle, the way the shaft flatted in the middle for a person to sit, and then tapered into a cylinder again. The seat was still narrow, though; definitely for shorter flights instead of long, pleasure rides. The base did not have bristles like a cleaning broom. It expanded like a baseball bat; a section of wood to keep the whole thing balanced while a person sat on it. In between the rear and the seat, was a bar—not unlike a coatrack’s arms—for the feet to rest.</p><p>Meanwhile, Robin said, “Yeah, because how many dinguses does it take to get a bat out of a net?”</p><p>Steve stared flatly at her. “One,” he pointed at himself, but it sounded like a question. Billy peeked up at him, not really understanding the quip either, but knowing that Robin just got the better of him. Steve’s head turned to meet his gaze, the silent confusion still in his eyes as Billy felt so damn fond.</p><p>“One,” he repeated with more insistence. “I got it. What are you getting at?”</p><p>Billy handed back the broom. “I think it’s more the fact that you answered so sincerely that’s the joke.”</p><p>Steve absorbed that and his eyes dragged elsewhere. He huffed, but didn’t say anything.</p><p>
  <em>He doesn’t like being the punch line.</em>
</p><p>“Come on,” Robin intercepted, leading the way into the building. “Let’s see how much fatter he is today.”</p><p>Billy wondered how much Steve actually recovered despite his nonchalance. “If you keep giving him maraschino cherries, he won’t fly.”</p><p>Robin went ahead to class, but Steve paused at a room opposite the front office appropriately called, <em>Broom Cupboard</em>. He signed in his vehicle, and stopped off at his locker with Billy beside him. The latter dived right into it. “Are you leaving early today?”</p><p>Steve glanced at him as he burned a match inside his locker. “Yeah. Why?”</p><p>Billy wagged his head sassily. “Because I wanna get to know you.”</p><p>Steve pointed direct, dubious eyes at him. “Because of the mate thing?”</p><p>Billy shifted his weight and blew out the match before Steve could, earning a brief jaw drop before Steve glared, deadpan, at him. “Why do you say it like that?”</p><p>“I don’t know, because the last time I heard anything about that stuff was in a history book?”</p><p>The loud crackle of a bag interrupted them as Steve pulled out a white chocolate Kit-Kat from a stash in the locker. Then he waved a hand over himself, “Is there anything here you actually like?”</p><p>Billy’s brows knit together slightly. Obviously, there was a great deal he liked. Even if Steve thought soul mates were bullshit, it wouldn’t make sense for Billy to be here unless he <em>liked</em> something.</p><p>He countered, “Is there anything on me you like?”</p><p>Steve…went quiet. He turned back to his cabinet but he couldn’t hide the way his eyes lingered on Billy’s face or darted down Billy’s front.</p><p>
  <em>You’re already spoiling me and you don’t even realize it.</em>
</p><p>As if the pause never happened, Steve retorted, “You’re fishing.”</p><p>Billy scoffed through a grin, “I’m not fishing.”</p><p>“You’re fishing,” Steve declared while shutting his locker, “but I’m not biting.”</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>, I love a good bite.”</p><p>Steve threw a bewildered, yet amused, smile over his shoulder as he moved to the other side of the hallway to go with the flow of traffic. Billy followed him with a cocky swagger to his step, but only to the stairs. There, he pinched the hem of Steve’s jacket to hold him in place. “I’ll see you later.”</p><p>Steve didn’t have time to think of a response with people rushing to their classes. But Billy didn’t need one. He held onto Steve’s gaze until they both went their separate ways.</p><p>He paid more attention during his outdoor gym class to the birds flying to and from both buildings. He kept an eye out for a crow with white tips to its wings, but if Steve sent the creature out, Billy didn’t see it.</p><p>His professor wasn’t pleased by his absence the previous day, but Billy made up for it by answering all of his questions and earning the rank of <em>smart ass</em> in class by his peers. Not like he cared. Just like Steve’d had a familiar longer than other witches just now learning how to work with animals, Billy had been shifting between two and four legs for a long, <em>long</em> time.</p><p>During the midday break, Billy found Steve at the <em>Broom Cupboard</em> retrieving his vehicle. He slouched on the counter, shaking his little vial necklace absentmindedly. Billy leaned against the counter, bumping his knee against Steve’s leg and drawing him out of his thoughts. “I thought you told the kid your broom broke.”</p><p>“You heard all that?”</p><p>Billy tried to keep his smirk to a minimum. “ ‘Course I did. It’s one of my perks.”</p><p>Steve huffed a laugh, blinking as he looked away and accepted his device from the person behind the counter. “My mom’s got a few brooms to choose from.”</p><p>“Do you have your own?”</p><p>“Yeah, but I can’t really use it as much anymore.”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“If you saw it, you’d know why,” Steve answered on his way out the doors. “Where are you going?”</p><p>“My lunch is in a cooler in my car.” Billy twirled his keys in his grip for emphasis the same time he saw Max approaching his car for the same reason. Steve called out to Robin, who had parked nearby anyway, so Billy unlocked his car and waited for Max to grab her pair of sandwiches. He preferred a fully loaded sub sandwich and pasta salad, but his mother had snuck in two mason jars of lemonade for both of them.</p><p>Billy carried his to Steve. “Do you like lemonade?”</p><p>Steve looked down at it. “Who doesn’t? You don’t want it?”</p><p>“I’m giving it to you.”</p><p>Billy ignored Robin’s silent observance to glance back at his own car—only to quickly look away from Max’s likewise stare. He was left watching Steve unscrew the jar, give it a smell, and taste. “Mm! Oh…is there a little orange juice in this?”</p><p>Billy scrutinized his expression as he said that. “You’re not allergic, are you?”</p><p>“No, it’s good,” he chirped, raising it for some more. Billy ate his pasta salad as he listened to Steve and Robin talk about things he didn’t fully understand yet. He intended to save his sandwich for a time when he could sit down, but he’d be a part of as much of Steve’s time as he could get.</p><p>A tickle moved in his belly like laughter as Steve raised the jar for the last gulp of lemonade before his eyes widened and he paused. “Were you wanting some of this?”</p><p>Between Steve enjoying the lemonade and demolishing it in such a short span of time, Billy’s inner wolf all but purred with satisfaction. A content mate made for a pleased wolf. “It’s all yours.”</p><p>Steve finished it and screwed on the lid. “Do you want me to wash this?”</p><p>Billy snorted, “No, my car’s right here. I’ll take it.”</p><p>Since he moved toward his car, Robin announced, “This was fun, gents. I’m heading out.”</p><p>“See ya, Robin,” Steve stepped back the same time Billy waved her off. Max had long since taken her lunch to eat with whatever friends she had, so he locked up the Camaro and…found Steve on the pavement.</p><p>Billy strolled back up to the school, arriving beside him on the sidewalk. He stood a moment, looking in the same direction of the trees, as if Steve were expecting something. “Waiting for something?”</p><p>Steve pulled on the chain around his neck, extracting the ovular mirror pendant. His fingertips traveled the edge for a long minute, and then like he decided on something, he pivoted toward the school. “Yeah.”</p><p>His tone sank heavily in Billy’s core, but he didn’t have time to process it as Steve began to sprint around the building. He looked up at the outdoor stairs leading up into the dome. Swinging a leg over the broom, he seated himself—</p><p>“Ow! What are you doing?”</p><p>“What are <em>you</em> doing?” Billy countered behind him. “This isn’t going home.”</p><p>“This isn’t meant for two people! Ow—my balls—Don’t fall off.”</p><p>That last part was for Billy, and he had less than a second to hold onto Steve for dear life as he directed the broom straight up. “JesusMary! Hail, fullofgrace—blessed ‘mongst women—”</p><p>As soon as it started, Steve leveled out on the highest balcony around the dome. He dismounted and waited for Billy to hobble off the broom. He spared a moment to scrutinize Billy rearranging himself in his jeans. “Did you just…pray?”</p><p>“<em>Poorly</em>,” he grit, feeling very much like he might throw up.</p><p>Steve’s voice softened. “You can go back to class. This doesn’t involve you.”</p><p>Billy’s chest expanded as he stood up straight. “I don’t know what it involves, but your ass seems to be on fire.”</p><p>Like a reminder, Steve recommenced his path into the one room up here. Billy followed into a pitch dark room, but as Steve lit a tea light from a lighter in his pocket, he warned, “I need you to be still and quiet. Make sure no one comes in.”</p><p>Billy leaned back against the door easily enough, but the small flame confused his eyes as sparks of light danced around the room. It took him a bit to understand that the room’s walls were mirrors. The octagonal room had a vaulted ceiling, but it too had been paneled with reflective glass. Tables lined the sides of the room with various supplies—flashlights, candles, extended lighters, a sink, etc.—but Steve filled up a bowl with water and sat right down in the middle of the floor.</p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>Steve blew out the candle. In the darkness, he explained, “Tina always meets me after school. I’m going to find her.”</p><p>
  <em>A cat. This is about a cat?</em>
</p><p>Billy kept it to himself as Steve went quiet. His wolf eyes allowed him to see Steve sitting on the floor, by all appearances, meditating. Billy couldn’t say if sixty long seconds passed, or however many minutes, but all at once the room lit up. He had to flinch behind his hand at the illumination, but he peeked around to see himself and Steve in a new room.</p><p>No…</p><p>Not a new room. The mirrors worked together to let them see into a different space. And right there, in front of Steve, stood a black cat clawing at a door.</p><p>
  <em>“Tina…”</em>
</p><p>She whirled around, somehow hearing his voice. Perhaps the most startling component of all, was that Billy heard her meow <em>back</em>. It echoed in a ghoulish way…and he realized it had come from the bowl of water.</p><p>
  <em>“Tina!”</em>
</p><p>The cat hollered in reply, turning this way and that to find him—</p><p>Billy winced again as the room changed to a brighter space. This time, he recognized the aviary as if he stood beneath those rafters. The crow with a white wing stared back at them.</p><p>
  <em>“Apollo, I need your wings.”</em>
</p><p>The bird took off from its roost, swooping low to pitch itself out of a window.</p><p>
  <em>“Keep talking, Tina, I’ll find you.”</em>
</p><p>The cat’s earnest cry came through the water bowl. Despite Steve’s earlier instruction, Billy said, “It looked like she’s in storage room. The carpet looked like a house.”</p><p>The crow’s voice came loud and shrill through the water. Billy’s shoulder blades knocked against the mirror-paneled door when he recoiled against it. But he made a point to stay put, in case Steve did something wild and evaporated from the room, at least Billy knew the physical way out.</p><p>They watched through the crow’s eyes as he flew over the treetops. From this high, the rooftops of neighborhoods looked unnatural and odd, but Billy could tell Steve directed the bird because it followed the roads…</p><p>Into one of the wolves’ neighborhoods. Billy’s neighborhood. The crow arrived at a specific house, doing a lap around it until it landed in a tree outside of a window. They heard Tina’s cry through the water, but from further away.</p><p>
  <em>“Got her. Get out of there, Apollo.”</em>
</p><p>The room went dark, and Steve was already on his feet, dumping the bowl into the sink. Billy opened the door behind him and squinted into the daylight. “Is she at the twerp’s house?”</p><p>“Yeah, Carol’s brother kidnapped her.” Steve strode beside him with the broom in hand.</p><p>“Catnapped her.”</p><p>“What? It’s the same thing.”</p><p>“It…really isn’t,” Billy grimaced mildly. “Are we finding the kid?”</p><p>“No. I’m getting my cat out of there.”</p><p>Once again, Billy acted before his brainwaves could catch up. At least this time, when he tucked himself as close as possible to Steve on the seat, they were already high up. Steve didn’t have to swan dive in any direction to gain altitude, and soon enough, he slowed to hover over Carol’s house.</p><p>“What’s the plan here?” Billy inquired as he listened. Tina had resumed scratching at the door, but all else was silent. Steve lowered the broom in between the house and its neighbor, finding a window into a guest room… Amongst boxes, an unused bed, and miscellaneous items, stood Tina rotating to gaze up at them.</p><p>“Breaking and entering.”</p><p>“Oh. Swell.”</p><p>Steve had the decency to spare Billy’s balls and landed gently. Billy frowned up at the window. “Why don’t you just levitate her through the window and we fly the hell out of here?”</p><p>“She’s going to bolt a hundred miles an hour once she’s out of there,” Steve refused as he moved the neighbor’s trash bin to the side of the house. It was a tall and square, green bin regulated by the city, and would work nicely to climb on. “Hold this steady.”</p><p>Billy did so, but he tried to think of all the ways this could—and probably <em>should</em>—go differently. Steve heaved himself onto the dumpster despite the very handy broom leaning against the house, and shoved the conveniently unlocked window up. It was still high up, though. Billy observed Steve’s ass and legs hanging out of the window as he partially climbed inside the house. Billy glanced down both sides of their little alleyway, stuck waiting for this to work out, or go wrong.</p><p>“<em>Ow</em>—gods, this hurts,” Steve whined inside the house. Billy rubbed his forehead. It had become rather clear that his mate might be a beautiful chandelier, but a socket or two were definitely without bulbs. However, he was stuck with his ribs on the windowsill as he heaved, “Tina! Come here, baby, come here.”</p><p>The sound of something heavy landed on the other side of the wall. Steve prompted, “Jump on that. You can do it! Come on!”</p><p>Billy hadn’t considered cats to be trustful animals before, but he heard the rhythmic <em>boom-boom-boom</em> of her weight landing on boxes and the wall before Steve chucked her over his shoulder through the window. She landed on the trash bin’s lid, then the grass beside Billy. Her claws tore into the earth as she did exactly what Steve predicted, bolting for the tree line behind the houses.</p><p>Next came Steve. Except instead of climbing out of the window, he fell out of it. His feet hit the bin, and he caterwauled as his body went completely to gravity’s mercy. Billy heard himself shout Steve’s name before he meant to, but he caught Steve’s lanky frame so he broke most of his fall before the earth did—</p><p>“HEY!”</p><p>“Shit,” Steve wheezed, both of them scrambling to get up—</p><p>“I know it’s you, Harrington. Get over here.”</p><p>Steve and Billy managed to get to their feet, the former exchanging an apologetic glance with the latter. Billy murmured as he retrieved the broom, “The perks of being popular.”</p><p>The middle-aged wolf stood with his hands on his hips, waiting for them to come out of the alley. No sooner did they, and his wife joined him from their car. “Steve? What’s going on?”</p><p>Billy held onto Steve’s broom, leaning on it as he admitted, “Carol’s brother and I had a bit of a disagreement. He took something of mine. I came to get it back.”</p><p>To the parents’ credit, they didn’t call Steve a liar. Her husband touched her back and said, “Go get Danny. Grab Carol while you’re at it. You two are staying here.”</p><p>Steve and Billy didn’t need telling twice. As she drove to their campus, the man focused on Billy. “You just moved into 113, right?”</p><p>“Yes, sir.”</p><p>He gestured toward the house. “Let’s wait inside and you can call your mother. Is she home this time of day?”</p><p>“Probably.”</p><p>“Steve?” He did not need to repeat his question.</p><p>“Yes, sir.”</p><p>“Then you’ll do the same.”</p><p>Billy’s mother arrived first, starting the jury in the driveway. She hugged Billy the second she saw him, and to Steve’s bemusement, hugged him too. “Are you guys okay?”</p><p>They nodded while Carol’s father informed, “Apparently a breaking and entering has occurred.”</p><p>Steve added quietly, “Nothing’s broken…if it’s a consolation.”</p><p>The old wolf was really showing his wisdom through his lack of retort to that, but soon their heads lifted as his wife pulled into the driveway. Carol stepped right out of the car and coughed a laugh, which her father promptly stifled.</p><p>“I won’t have your sass, Carol Anne. You’re in as much trouble as your brother until this matter is settled.”</p><p>Her mirth evaporated as Tommy followed her out of the car. Why her mother had allowed him to come along, Billy couldn’t fathom. “Wha—? I’m not a part of this! How are <em>we</em> to blame for <em>them</em> breaking into our house?”</p><p>The driveway had filled up with cars, so they moved to the street. Since they lived in a cul de sac, they had the space. Steve, Billy, and his mother stood on one side, and the Perkins’ on the other. The youngest, Danny, wore a sour and defeated expression next to his father, who declared, “I suppose Danny can explain while we wait for Steve’s mother to join us.”</p><p>That shut Carol right up. Billy shifted his weight and felt his mother reciprocate beside him. Danny admitted, “I challenged Steve to a basketball game. He got mouthy and I answered his challenge.”</p><p>“Boys,” Billy’s mother sighed, “don’t be vague, please.”</p><p>“I agree,” Mr. Perkins said, but his head turned toward the car parking along the curb. Steve’s mother stepped out, and…well. She looked like a witch. But she mostly looked like a mom. For some reason, Billy hadn’t expected the lithe, business chic woman in front of him. Her longish hair arched out of her scalp much like her son’s, framing her face and shoulders. A black, duster cardigan swished around her black jeans and bright, peach sweater with heather grey speckling. A black, snake chain necklace hung around her neck. Unlike Billy’s mother, Steve’s remained on the other side of the congregation, able to see everyone, including her son.</p><p>“Good day, all,” she drawled, audibly reading the room. “What did I miss?”</p><p><em>Steve has her nose</em>, Billy’s brain processed before he bit the inside of his cheek.</p><p>Her gaze fell on Steve, who held his arms around himself as he informed quietly, “He stole Tina.”</p><p>Pleasantness left her features. It was brief, but Billy knew tenderness when he saw it, before she moved cold eyes between Danny Perkins and his father. “And then?”</p><p>Mr. Perkins answered, “I found him and his counterpart falling out of my guest room. Presumably after the cat had been recovered.”</p><p>She inhaled deeply, her chin craning to make room for her throat to stretch as she thought over this. “It is one of the worse things you can do…stealing a witch’s familiar. It’s also against wolf law to not bring the subject to the alpha nearest to the issue.”</p><p>Mr. Perkins nodded. “Thus our situation. I welcome your input, priestess.”</p><p>Billy saw Tommy’s jaw clench and Carol silently fuming. Mr. Perkins had shown a massive gesture of respect to the witch for including her in this at all, and his daughter wasn’t happy about it.</p><p>Mrs. Harrington rolled a finger through the air, gesturing while she prompted, “Gentlemen, walk me through this.”</p><p>Danny took the chance to speak. “I knew Harrington would notice his cat had gone missing, but I <em>expected</em> him to come to me about it.”</p><p>Billy stifled the growl in his throat. His mother leaned into his side like she knew. Danny wanted Steve to beg him personally for his familiar back. For the witch to bow to the wolf.</p><p>Steve didn’t answer immediately. He waited for his mother to segue, “And why didn’t you?”</p><p>His own jaw ticked. “My priority was getting Tina somewhere safe, not appeasing some puppy wanting to be king of the dipshits.”</p><p>Tommy’s lips curled into this mouth, holding a laugh in. Billy almost felt for the guy. This wasn’t his problem, and he and Steve had been friends at one point.</p><p>Mr. Perkins picked up, “You said you challenged Steve to a basketball game and he got mouthy. That much is easy to believe right now.”</p><p>Steve held his head high, even if he looked elsewhere. His mother filled the silence, “It’s not the first time Steve’s been singled out like an alpha, and challenged thusly.”</p><p>The Perkins alpha replied, “I understand boys wanting to keep this between themselves—”</p><p>Carol interjected, “Steve’s older. He should know better. He’s in the wrong to break into our house instead of knocking on the door like a normal person.”</p><p>Billy grinned and the beta visibly recoiled. “You’re telling us that your brother grew up with witches and didn’t know how important Steve’s familiar is to him? He challenged Steve first, and he stole the cat first.”</p><p>He felt Mrs. Harrington’s gaze before he saw it. Her shoulders pivoted to fully face him. “I don’t know you.” It was polite, but also inquiring.</p><p>“Billy Hargrove, ma’am. This is my mom and alpha, Lillian.”</p><p>His mother smiled, “A pleasure. We just moved into town last week.”</p><p>Carol sighed haughtily, done with the niceties. Mrs. Harrington ignored her. “Are you Weres as well?”</p><p>“We are,” his mother confirmed.</p><p>The side of Mrs. Harrington’s mouth lifted, amused as she eyed her own broom in Billy’s hands. “If you were with Steve through this…you could’ve stopped him at any time.”</p><p>He inhaled and admitted, “Steve on a mission was a bit too fast for me, and I’m still learning the—” he didn’t mean to glance at his mom, but there it was, “—lay of the land here. And there was a dash of me just wanting to see things play out.”</p><p>Tommy rocked on the balls of his feet, his silent amusement earning an elbow in the gut from Carol. The Perkins parents sighed, mutually disappointed by the state of events. Mrs. Harrington continued, “And as a wolf, you didn’t feel compelled to side with Danny and Carol?”</p><p>“I am not a part of this!” Carol exclaimed. Her father’s mean stare and Tommy’s hand on her arm shut her up.</p><p>The priestess’s gaze remained steady on Billy. She waited, her penetrating stare almost seeing through him. Hell, she really could if she wanted to.</p><p>Billy swallowed dryly. “Steve’s my mate.”</p><p>All the air in his lungs went into those words. Steve’s head snapped up as Lillian seconded, “I was there when Billy first saw him. We were running in our furs. I know what he felt. It’s true.”</p><p>Billy looked back at Steve: at his parted lips, shallow breathing, and his eyes darting between Billy and Lillian before he looked toward his own mother.</p><p>Carol interrupted, “What does this mean?”</p><p>“Carol, hush,” her mother ordered.</p><p>Danny took up, “Wait a minute, are they getting away with this because the universe ordained these two should bone?”</p><p>Steve erupted, “When I told you to ‘fuck around and find out,’ that was not an invitation to pick on something smaller and weaker than you. Stop flexing with feathers and shut your mouth.”</p><p>Tommy gripped the runt’s shoulder, hard, despite the teen’s growl. Mrs. Harrington sighed with finality, “So many egos. Danny, thank you for openly admitting to abducting my son’s familiar. Mr. and Mrs. Perkins, I’m willing to separate this matter if you are. I’ll handle my son, and you may discipline yours as you see fit.”</p><p>Mrs. Perkins nodded gratefully as her husband agreed, “I think that’s for the best—”</p><p>Carol insisted, “Steve broke wolf law. She said it herself.”</p><p>Her alpha answered, “And your brother broke witch law. The punishment for disrespecting the alpha is the alpha’s choice. My choice. The punishment for stealing a witch’s familiar bars my power to protect Danny. Mrs. Harrington has respected me in Steve’s place, and given Danny a <em>very</em> generous kindness. I also recall both Steve and Tina eating at our own table many times before your falling out. At least Steve properly opened the guestroom window without breaking anything, whereas you tear through the house when you don’t get your way.”</p><p>Billy exchanged looks with his mother. <em>Ouch</em>.</p><p><em>She’ll feel that sting a while, yet,</em> she agreed.</p><p>Mrs. Harrington extended her arm, reaching for her son. Steve crossed over to her without a word. Billy felt cold without his mate at his side.</p><p>With the wolves placated, Lillian raised her chin for Mrs. Harrington’s attention. “Since we’re on our way to being family, would you like to come over? I’ve made more food recently than Billy and I will ever finish.”</p><p>Two wolves with one kitchen? That was far from true, but the invitation still counted.</p><p>Mrs. Harrington’s tone changed to something more casual. “Lunch sounds divine right now.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Billy: I'm ready for any challenge if it means I get to spend time with my mate.<br/>Steve: *flexes too much magic too fast*<br/>Billy: *sweating* He's adorable, terrifying, so hot, and just the right amount of stupid. I'm in. Let's get married.</p><p>And I'm recycling Billy's mother's name from my Last Choice fic haha</p><p>I made a tumblr blog just for Harringrove things, but I'll be posting updates to both! So if you're already following my main blog for notifications, you can stay put :)<br/><a href="https://neonponders.tumblr.com/">My harringrove Tumblr~</a><br/><a href="http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/">My main Tumblr~</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Hot Cross Buns</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WHO. AM. I ??????? The last time I uploaded 2 chapters in this amount of time, you could hug people.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mrs. Harrington’s car followed behind Lillian’s to their house, cruising the appropriate speed for a neighborhood and giving Lillian the time to both praise and admonish her son. When they were out of earshot of the Perkins’ house, she warned, “You realize that if a single hair goes missing from that boy, the entire Perkins household will come knocking at our door.”</p><p>Billy scoffed quietly, “As if they’d stand a chance.”</p><p>She made a similar sound and declared, “It was good of you to skip school to break into a house with your soul mate, but—”</p><p>“<em>Mom</em>.”</p><p>“But neither of you have the protection of being underage. Next time will probably involve far less kind—”</p><p>The car went quiet as they both heard the muffled voice of Mrs. Harrington behind them: “Is that the same boy who tried to break your leg during basketball?”</p><p>A soft, “Yeah,” in reply.</p><p>“Gods above, Steve. This is something your father <em>never</em> gets to hear about.”</p><p>Billy peeked at his mother’s affronted gape. “<em>Oh my god! </em>”</p><p>“I’m a shining example for the community, right?” he taunted.</p><p>“You knew about that?”</p><p>Billy could feel her fuming surprise tickle the mental thread they shared. He poised his elbow on the door to cushion his head. “His ex filled me in yesterday when the runt started talking shit in the parking lot. I guess I was too impressed by Steve competing with Weres to care at first. She said he got close enough to almost tear his ACL.”</p><p>Lillian mirrored his arm on the door to hold her cheek. “Oh my god…poor Steve. It makes sense, then, why Perkins was so willing to submit to Steve’s mother. He’s on speaking terms with his ex? That’s a wonderful detail.”</p><p>Her son blinked at the topic change. “It’s annoying, even if she’s with someone else now.”</p><p>“It shows an emotional intelligence not many people share,” she refuted. “How is he in relation to her new beau?”</p><p>Billy shrugged. “No hostility as far as I could see. Kind of quiet around each other, maybe.”</p><p>They pulled into their driveway and heard Mrs. Harrington park along the curb. Billy stepped over the street with her broom and she directed, “Ah, thank you. You can put it in the trunk.”</p><p>He did so, and she locked the car with her key ring remote. Just as Billy thought how mundane and familiar that was, he followed his mother inside the house only to glance back at both Harringtons removing their shoes before entering. Lillian exclaimed, “That’s very kind, but we’re still moving in and a little mess won’t be noticed.”</p><p>Steve silently took his mother’s shoes and set them off to the side of the door on the porch, but after they both stepped over the stoop, they reacted as if encountering an invisible wall. Steve looked at his mother, who inhaled the aromas of Lillian’s recent cooking with awe slackening her jaw. “You cook a lot, don’t you?”</p><p>Billy replied, “She stress cooks.”</p><p>Mrs. Harrington shook her head with a dazed smile warming her features. “Doesn’t matter. Cooking is a ritual and raw energy is magic. You’ve got a lot of it.”</p><p>There were few occasions Billy had seen his mother blush. This was one of them.</p><p>Lacking words, she gestured to the line of dishes and loaves on the countertop. “Uh—The cast iron is still hot but the strata is vegetarian—I have to do that to sneak nutrients into my son’s body.”</p><p>“Excuse me?” said son barked.</p><p>His mother continued a little clumsily as she took a pair of bread knives off the magnetic strip on the wall. “Are you two vegan or…?”</p><p>“A lot of witches are,” Mrs. Harrington confirmed while she turned to look at Steve. “We aren’t.”</p><p>He looked to the ceiling. “I like fried chicken! What d’you want?”</p><p>Billy chuckled from his place beside the counter. “Just you. Come here.”</p><p>Steve looked at him differently now. He rubbed his palms against the front of his jeans and almost warily stepped forward to accept a plate. Behind them, Mrs. Harrington conversed, “I didn’t introduce myself. My name’s Annette. You can call me Anne.”</p><p>Billy heard the soft feet before he glanced at a black cat stepping through the door before his mother closed it. Lillian hadn’t seen Tina before, but the cat strolled right in, warranting respect. Her big eyes looked up at Steve preoccupied with spooning strata out of the skillet, his ears not hearing her enter. He startled when she leapt onto the counter with a similar sound as when she’d clawed up his body.</p><p>“Tina, this is not your house,” he scolded while placing her on the floor.</p><p>She jumped right back up to sniff what he was doing, but her little voice chirped out of her as she did so. Steve reached for the faucet, suddenly lenient. “I don’t know how your voice box is tired from yelling. It’s just another day for you.”</p><p>Annette smiled as she lowered into a chair, waiting for the boys to get their plates loaded. Tina lapped at the slow stream of water the entire time it took Steve and Billy to settle at the table. When she jumped down—only to jump onto Steve’s lap—Annette gestured in the air, and the faucet handle lowered to turn off. Billy’s eyes followed her movement the same way his ears tracked the change in sounds, his inner wolf disquieted by the metaphysical threads pulled by her bidding. But his mind observed with undisguised fascination.</p><p>Then his attention landed on her thick chain of a necklace. It overlapped twice over her collarbones. He could’ve sworn it was a singular chain….</p><p>“Has he moved? I’m so used to it, I sometimes shock people.”</p><p>Steve chewed with full cheeks despite the wolves’ rapt attention on his mother. She began to move her hair before pausing. “Are either of you afraid of snakes?”</p><p>Lillian glanced at Billy and shook her head. Annette lifted her hair to reveal a narrow snake’s head resting there.</p><p>“This is really good,” Steve said, pointing with his fork to his plate.</p><p>Lillian chimed distractedly, “You’re welcome, honey. Help yourself. Is he your familiar?”</p><p>The pad of Annette’s finger stroked the black snake’s head; his translucent, third eyelid protected its eyes from her hair. “I haven’t had a primary familiar for a long time, now. Mostly because animals have followed Steve home for years. This little one escaped his tank at the mall pet store. I found him in the GAP, thankfully, before any staff did.”</p><p>Lillian let a small laugh out and commented, “When was this?”</p><p>Annette looked at Steve as if time were measured on his face. “Ten years ago, give or take.”</p><p>“Oh! Then he’s fully grown? He’s so small, he really passes for a necklace.”</p><p>“Mm hm. The pet store did its scam of selling a mutt at full price. I’m pretty sure they got a corn snake to mate with a garter—or had a lab do the work for them—but the genes mutated into this beautiful black gem.”</p><p>Billy couldn’t help but ask, “You didn’t want to return it?”</p><p>She shook her head and insisted, “No, no, animals were following Steve around well before this one. Black bears have shown up in our backyard, before we fenced it in and installed a pool.”</p><p>The Weres looked at the young man shoveling food into his mouth. He paused with the fork midair. “It’s not <em>my</em> fault.”</p><p>Billy peered down at Tina contently watching him eat. “Are all the animals black?”</p><p>“Usually,” Annette confirmed. “I think it was the universe trying to tell me something. Black is a grounding color—a protective color—and my son is ever so good at floating.”</p><p>“It’s my one natural talent,” Steve confirmed, but Billy didn’t like his low, demeaning tone.</p><p>“That’s not true,” his mother countered, “but it is what made us aware that you took after me instead of your father. My husband doesn’t have magic,” she quickly explained to Lillian.</p><p>“How did this one come into your lives?” she asked with a nod at Tina.</p><p>Annette stood to take her turn at the selection of food. With a bread knife, she scraped the log of butter on the counter. Swiping it onto her finger, she offered it to the cat, who eagerly licked the treat. “Family trip to Greece when Steve was seven. This little one acted like Steve invented gravy.”</p><p>Billy crooned, “Old girl,” as he extended a hand for her to smell his fingers. Either the smell of wolf, or his lack of butter made her sniff once and bite his pointer. Billy moved his hand up and down, thereby moving her head since her teeth stayed latched onto his knuckle. Steve put a hand over his mouth to inhibit his laughter and not jostle the creature on his lap.</p><p>Annette, meanwhile, cut into one of the loaves, “She’ll live longer since she’s entwined with Steve’s magic, but her behavior was different from the rest. The black bears moved on. Various dogs went back to their houses. Tina tracked Steve down between Athens and the bed-and-breakfast we were staying in outside of town. Roughly twenty miles.”</p><p>Billy removed his hand from her mouth at the expense of having a clawed paw holding his wrist still. He risked wagging the finger in between her ears as he asked, “Entwined with your magic. What does that mean?”</p><p>Steve gulped water from the glass his mother set down first, and replied, “It’s kind of in the same league as Were magic. Packs can communicate without words, right? There’s a magical link there. A witch can bond with their familiar enough that I could, like, robot control Tina—”</p><p>“Like you did with the crow.”</p><p>“—Yeah. Or I can borrow her traits. I borrow her eyes a lot.”</p><p>Billy’s frozen expression warranted his mother disclaiming, “I don’t think that means he’s actually taking her eyes.”</p><p>Steve huffed a laugh and seconded, “No, I just see in the dark like she can.”</p><p>His attention deterred to the thick slice of bread his mother put on his plate, buttered and speckled with dried cranberries and candied orange rind. He bit and chewed without thinking about it…and then stopped with a wide look at his mother. She similarly chewed with an epiphany on her face before she met his gaze. A hand quickly covered her mouth to control her laughter at his awed expression. He peeked at Lillian and voiced, “This tastes like a hot cross bun.”</p><p>Annette elaborated, “Steve’s <em>favorite</em> pastries are hot cross buns.”</p><p>The Hargroves laughed and Lillian said, “I’m glad I know now. You can take that loaf home with you.”</p><p>Annette countered, “Are you sure?” the same time Steve moaned through his mouthful, “Really?”</p><p>She nodded. “Yes, really. It’s no trouble. We spent a significant amount of time in a very Catholic part of California. It’s tradition, at this point, to enjoy the seasonal foods.”</p><p>Steve’s mother hummed around her thumb as she licked strata sauce off it. “Us, as well. But there’s no difference apart from chronology and tech advancements.”</p><p>“Mom,” Steve drawled.</p><p>“I’m not getting started,” she defended, and ate from her place leaning against the counter.</p><p>Lillian and Billy exchanged looks and the latter prompted, “Might as well start. We’re curious now.”</p><p>Steve summarized, “Ice boxes and fridges helped people to do more stuff with butter, and Christianity overlapped pagan stuff to sinuate—”</p><p>“Assimilate,” his mother corrected gently.</p><p>Steve blinked, mildly thrown off track. “Yeah. It’s a big, ‘I was here first,’ kind of thing.”</p><p>The priestess shrugged casually. “Nothing wrong with various faiths. I just like to watch bigots twitch.”</p><p>Lillian grinned. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”</p><p>Annette set her plate in the sink and touched her son’s shoulder. He interpreted her open hand and gave her his plate and fork. Billy stood with his own, and intercepted her intent to wash the dishes. “I’ll get that.”</p><p>“I don’t mind.”</p><p>“I insist,” he purred. “You’re a guest.”</p><p>She relinquished the sink, but not without a cheeky, “Don’t intimidate me with kindness. I’ll take full advantage of it. Speaking of, you two should come over for dinner or drinks one night. Steve gets out of class around nine or nine-thirty.”</p><p>“We’d love to,” Lillian agreed, but informed, “We’re getting ready for February’s moon on Saturday, though. Perhaps after?”</p><p>“It’s a late full moon, isn’t it?” Annette commented before agreeing, “That’s fine. And that means the next moon will coincide with Ostara celebrations. That’ll be exciting. I’m trying a new beer recipe this year.”</p><p>Steve said bluntly while he pivoted to get out of his chair, “Mom likes gadgets.”</p><p>“I love gadgets,” she reiterated with energetic eyes. “The garage is my laboratory.”</p><p>Steve peppered the top of Tina’s head with a quick succession of kisses and nudged her off his lap. He stood and informed, “Billy’s car is still at school.”</p><p>Lillian answered, “I’ll take him, honey, thank you. He needs to pick up Max, anyway.”</p><p>Steve opened the door while repeating, “Max?”</p><p>His mother went out first and donned her shoes as Lillian explained, “The other half of our pack is another single mother and her daughter. Max is a freshman in high school.”</p><p>“Ginger,” Billy added. “Can’t miss her.”</p><p>Steve had pulled his shoes on and looked inside the house at his cat just sitting contently on the floor. He waved a hand, “Well, come on. This isn’t your house.”</p><p>The cat didn’t really meow, but yelled into a gallop out of the house. Lillian coughed a laugh, disintegrating into giggles as she said, “Where there’s butter, it’s home.”</p><p>Steve smiled. “But really. Thanks for lunch. It was nice meeting you.”</p><p>“You too, Steve. You’re welcome any time.”</p><p>“Sorry for the, uh, today.”</p><p>She chuckled and stepped aside for Billy to come onto the porch. “All’s well that ends well. But try to keep the criminal activity to a minimum.”</p><p>Steve laughed breathily but didn’t promise anything. Lillian left the door open a crack, and on the other side of the street, Annette opened the car for Tina to jump into. Steve peeked at Billy and uttered a soft, “Um…”</p><p>“Do you believe me now?”</p><p>He inhaled deeply and nodded at the porch under them. “Yeah, uh…guess I do. You realize that most of the town will know by tomorrow? Carol and Tommy have megaphones for mouths.”</p><p>“I don’t care about two, loud-mouth betas. When do you go back to evening classes?”</p><p>Steve frowned a little. “Friday? Why?”</p><p>Billy smiled. “Perfect. I want to take you out. Can I pick you up?”</p><p>The shrug that came was unexpected, along with, “You can come with, if you want. Do you like yoga?”</p><p>Billy laughed before he meant to. “Seriously? Anybody can join the class?”</p><p>Steve nodded with another roll of his shoulder. “It’s less about curriculum and more about providing a service.”</p><p>“Yeah, I’ve gotten that impression about my gym class. They just want to wear us out so we get along with everyone else.”</p><p>“Well, you <em>can</em> be overly energetic,” Steve teased. His smile faded in the moment that ensued; his eyes wandering Billy’s face and the smug warmth there. To fill the silence, Steve continued, “Jonathan shows up with his brother sometimes.”</p><p>“A kid?”</p><p>“Will’s a witch,” he disregarded, but elaborated, “but you’ve seen Jonathan. All the Byers are skinny nerds. Yoga’s a nice spot to just hang out. If you go all wolfy, the teacher will chuck you out.”</p><p>“Oh. Well. Guess I’m out,” Billy sassed, earning a laugh that tipped Steve’s head back. He turned his pelvis toward the stairs, slowly easing his way out of the conversation.</p><p>“It starts at seven, if you change your mind.”</p><p>Steve peeked back at him on his way down the stairs. Billy’s lips parted, the air in his lungs flitting around. Steve had effortlessly turned his invitation around…and he liked that a lot. The wolf inside his soul still paced with the disquiet it carried from being near things it did not recognize or understand.</p><p>But he was beginning to.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You know it's a shamelessly self-indulgent chapter if I'm just writing about food the whole time.</p><p>I made a tumblr blog just for Harringrove things, but I'll be posting updates to both! So if you're already following my main blog for notifications, you can stay put :)<br/><a href="https://neonponders.tumblr.com/">My harringrove Tumblr~</a><br/><a href="http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/">My main Tumblr~</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Friday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Robin set her bag on the long table in the aviary. “If you make it a habit of being early, you can never go back to tardiness.”</p><p>Steve looked up from the log clipboard. “I need to tell you something.”</p><p>“Is it something I want to hear?” she challenged, taking the clipboard from him.</p><p>“Billy thinks we’re fated mates.”</p><p>Robin peered at him like he’d just turned the sky magenta. “Huh?”</p><p>He tossed a hand up in mutual befuddlement. “That’s why he’s been hanging around. I didn’t believe it either, but some things happened yesterday, and he just <em>said it </em>in front of Carol’s whole family. And his alpha vouched for him.”</p><p>Robin eased a hip over the table and wiggled her way backwards to sit on it. “Start from the beginning.”</p><p>Steve did, trying to be as concise as possible given their limited time before class. By the end of it, she sat with her ankles and arms crossed, wordless as she contemplated.</p><p>“I guess the only thing to say is…one, how do you feel about him? And two, do you still need to watch your ass around the douchebag?”</p><p>Steve shook his head. “Between his dad being pissed that this is the second time he’s started shit, and now I’ve got a…” he waved a hand in the air again, “a fated bodyguard, I think I’ll be fine. But I’ve known this guy for <em>two days</em>.”</p><p>“And the first night in the field.”</p><p>“That was a minute.”</p><p>Robin inhaled deeply with a gentle shrug. “You can rush and try the Sanctum Sleep, or wait until you know him better.”</p><p>Steve doubled over the table, scrubbing his face. “Yeah, ‘cause that will go over well.”</p><p>Robin’s voice softened. “I thought you were working on it?”</p><p>“I <em>am</em>. I have been for years.” His palms inadvertently slapped the table when he lowered his hands.</p><p>“I said you could wait. And…if it’s all real…maybe having Billy there will…you know, be the change you’ve been working toward.”</p><p>Steve crossed his arms under his throat to rest his chin. “Or it’ll scare him shitless and that’ll be that.”</p><p>Robin glared at him with some amusement. “I don’t think he’s capable of that if he’s fated to you.” At his wary yet hopeful look, she emphasized, “Wolf magic isn’t as adaptable as ours, but it’s a pretty big deal. If he means it, I wouldn’t expect him to <em>hightail</em> it out of there. Also, politely, fuck you for being so lucky.”</p><p>Steve coughed on his abrupt laughter. “I can’t believe I share your sense of humor now. He’s coming to yoga tomorrow.”</p><p>“Good! We’ll break him.”</p><p>“<em>Robin</em>.”</p><p>“Remember we have that assembly tomorrow.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah.”</p><p>* * *</p><p>The assembly gathered on Friday after their aviary class, and by the looks of things, only Finishing witches had been invited. Robin and Steve sat in the theatre auditorium while the others of their program filed in, and teachers waited with stacks of papers to hand out along the rows.</p><p>“What do you think it’s about?” Robin asked.</p><p>Steve shrugged and settled in, easing so far down in his seat that his head rested on the back. “No idea. You had to remind me of this thing, remember?”</p><p>“Yeah, but I thought maybe your mom might know what’s up.”</p><p>Steve hummed and shook his head, resigning them to wait for <em>Sheriff Hopper</em> of all people to get handed a microphone. Steve and Robin peeked at each other, exchanging silent wonderment. A teacher was also given a microphone, and the others started counting papers and pamphlets as they went down the rows.</p><p>“Good morning, everyone!” the middle-aged witch began. “We won’t take up too much of your time since we know you’ve all got plans for this weekend. We received word last year of a mining incident that’s caused…quite a legal ordeal for the company. While those legal battles and settlements happen, the mine is otherwise abandoned, and has been handed over to the magical community.”</p><p>Steve scoffed quietly in Robin’s direction as he sat up a little more. “Humans.”</p><p>The professor continued, “You’ve all learned in your curriculum that consent is one of the biggest tenants in our craft. That includes the earth’s consent. Obviously, mining is the direct opposite, and a topic many of you are used to debating in your ethics philosophy courses.”</p><p>That earned some chuckles, but neither Robin nor Steve ever visited the philosophy wing much.</p><p>“However, the community has worked tirelessly to repair the damage made by the company and, as they say, if you drink from a river with golden nuggets, the fish won’t miss ‘em if you take them.”</p><p>Steve sat up fully.</p><p>“As the dangerous chasms were closed off, a great number of crystal specimens have been carefully removed and stored for student work, so—”</p><p>Steve threw his fists into the air. “FIELD TRIP!”</p><p>The auditorium broke out into laughter, even cracking a smile on the sheriff. Steve had to relax in order to accept the papers finally making their way to him and Robin, and Hopper took over.</p><p>“Yes, you’ve all been invited north to see what a bunch of magma and glacier movement made inside the earth’s crust. Now, this is all bonus stuff. This time of year hosts a lot of holidays and moon rituals, so nobody’s forcing you to go. You’re all getting information packets and—for my sanity—please read the safety information on the pink sheets. You’ll be doing a whole bunch of crystal workshops above ground, as well as the occasional cave and mine shaft tours. And before anyone asks: <em>yes</em>, you will be able to bring crystals home.</p><p>“Which brings me the next important note: we will be on Native land. Technically we always have been, but this company played dirty and mined with no ethical or legal permission. It’s since been properly handed back to the reservation, and everything we’re doing is in compliance with their standards. <em>Native people have invited you</em>. Myself, and some of your teachers will be chaperoning this venture. If I get so much as a whisper that shenanigans or disrespect are happening, I’ll send your asses packing on the first bus, even if it’s at 3a.m. Are we understanding each other?”</p><p>The auditorium hummed with solemn, <em>Yes, sir</em>, and <em>Yes, sheriff</em>.</p><p>* * *</p><p>For Billy, Thursday came and went in a remarkably boring fashion considering the preceding days. Billy’s mother suggested lying low since he would be able to spend time with Steve on Friday—and with the waxing moon, Billy desperately needed to get there.</p><p>The Were phys-ed instructors mercilessly ran them around the complex, hosted a mini lacrosse tournament, and even opened up a weight room. Billy normally would have relished the solo time in the latter, but he forewent the weight room, opting for the cardio since he had yet to understand how flying actually worked. Did the broom do the work? Or did Steve? He wouldn’t pack on muscle until he knew.</p><p>He expected eyes to follow him through the halls. The only ones that did were Carol and Tommy’s. Understandable. Carol sat in a difficult position, the sidecar to whatever punishment her brother underwent, but also…it was an old thing, the degree of the moon and stars. Were packs of old held such unions as sacred, protected marriages. First in the pack because the moon sang her song and the stars gazed over them all. Wolves could not fight the stars, so they sang with the moon.</p><p>Billy didn’t know the modern rules. Neither did Carol or Tommy, given their distance. Billy and Steve would be untouchable in a different age. Or targets in this one.</p><p>As it turned out, though, Tommy and Carol weren’t the loudmouths on campus. Danny was, which Billy learned from Max come lunchtime on Friday.</p><p><em>Your fairytale is like wildfire all over my school</em>, she thought while reaching into his cooler.</p><p>
  <em>Is that affecting you?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No. Not yet, at least. I don’t think a lot of people know we’re pack.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>What am I? Your chauffeur?</em>
</p><p>She smirked a little but chose to bite into her sandwich. In the back of her mind, though, Billy heard the small echoing inquiry: <em>What is that even like?</em></p><p>Billy didn’t have an answer. He felt like he waded in a warm bath and had to sprint a mile a minute. He only felt even remotely calm when Steve’s attention was on him—</p><p>“Steve! Is it true?”</p><p>Billy looked up at the curly-haired kid—<em>His name’s Dustin</em>, Max reminded—catching Steve at the front doors. A flood of witches were coming out of the school for some reason, but Steve held Dustin by his backpack as he moved them out of the way of the doors. It was hard to hear what they were saying underneath all the excited commotion.</p><p>On Steve’s end, he struggled to rake a hand through his hair, and juggle his broom and paperwork as he and Robin moved Dustin to the front lawns. “You’ve slept together already?”</p><p>“Would you shut the hell up? No, all right?”</p><p>“So Danny Perkins is full of shit?”</p><p>“Yes, but no. Weres know this stuff on sight.”</p><p>Steve let him go to meet the black cat emerging from the trees. He crouched with an extended hand and she trotted to him, only to stop when Dustin loomed behind Steve’s back. The latter looked behind him and yanked Dustin down to sit on the grass. Robin joined them with some candy bars from her bag. Tina sniffed Steve’s Payday and then head-butted Robin’s palm.</p><p>
  <em>Are you always going to be a creep and eavesdrop?</em>
</p><p>Billy shot a mirthless glare at her. <em>I don’t see you leaving.</em></p><p>She shrugged. <em>I like listening to witches talk. It’s interesting.</em></p><p>They continued sitting on the lip of his trunk while they listened to Dustin ask, “Then what’s the plan here?”</p><p>Robin intercepted, “Life doesn’t have a plan, genius. You live and you die. The variables are how and when.”</p><p>Dustin leaned into Steve. “Has she been smoking?”</p><p>Steve only sighed and looked at Robin, “I don’t miss high school. At least people pretend to mind their business for us now.”</p><p>Robin agreed, “I’m surprised the kid managed to wait a whole day before chattering to everyone who will listen.”</p><p>Steve pointed his candy bar at Dustin threateningly. “He’s coming to class tonight. I don’t wanna hear a peep out of you nerds.”</p><p>“Hey, I have a girlfriend. I understand a man’s business.”</p><p>Steve shared a puzzled grimace with Robin, who said, “I thought Suzie was in Colorado?”</p><p>Dustin sat vacantly until he declared, “So? We visit. We’ve made out. You won’t hear me squealing about it.”</p><p>Steve countered, “You told me she liked kissing you when you still didn’t have front teeth.”</p><p>“Dude, we’re bros! I tell you shit I don’t even tell Mike!”</p><p>Robin snorted, “That’s just intelligent. Mike has tunnel vision for his own business. Lucas or Will is the better conversationalist.”</p><p>“He’s gotten better about that…mostly.”</p><p>“Hi, Dustin.”</p><p>The three of them looked up at Nancy, Jonathan, and Will. Dustin replied, “Hi, Nancy. Will, are you leaving early?”</p><p>“Yeah, mom’s moon rituals have a lot of prep stuff to do. I’ll be at class tonight, though.”</p><p>Steve’s attention redirected to Nancy crouching beside him with her own crinkle of papers under her arm. “Hey…do you know there’s a rumor about you and the new Hargrove wolf?”</p><p>He inhaled deeply and came right out with it. “It’s looking like it’s not a rumor.”</p><p>Silence. Nancy stared at him and Steve could only gaze back.</p><p>And then Nancy threw herself at him, hugging around his shoulders. Steve had to plant a hand behind him so they didn’t topple over.</p><p>“Oh, Steve! This is great news! Right? What are the chances—?”</p><p>Her voice escaped a little when Billy hoisted her up by the back of her red, sherpa-lined bomber. Jonathan caught her without a growl, but he certainly didn’t look pleased at someone handling her.</p><p>Billy smiled. “It’s great. You’re right.”</p><p>Those pouty lips of hers lifted in affront as she adjusted her jacket and the shirt under it. Steve and Robin stood, if nothing else than to be ready as buffers. Dustin picked up Tina as Will deterred the situation with, “Hi, Max.”</p><p>Billy turned to see that she had followed him. She avoided his gaze as she replied, “Hey, Will.”</p><p>“Are you still coming tonight?”</p><p>“Think so, yeah,” she said in that uninterested way of hers.</p><p>But her gaze snapped to Billy when he confronted, “You’re going to yoga?”</p><p>“Yeah? I was invited. Mom’s taking me.”</p><p>“Good,” he finished and turned back to Steve, “then that leaves us—”</p><p>Steve was ignoring him to zip Tina inside a soft carrier that hung like a backpack behind the seat of his broom, kept in place by the foot pegs. The vehicle hovered over the ground, waiting as he mounted it and glanced back at them. Steve’s mouth opened, but having nothing to say, he merely waved whatever matters aside. “It’s Friday.”</p><p>“Here, here,” Robin seconded, stepping off the pavement toward her car.</p><p>Jonathan lithely stepped between Nancy and Billy, tossing his keys to his brother, who apparently was learning how to drive a car. Dustin moved along to his classes, muttering a soft, “See ya, Max,” before leaving her and Billy where they stood.</p><p>“Smooth.”</p><p>“Shut it.”</p><p><em>Smooth</em>, she thought instead.</p><p>* * *</p><p>“What the hell do you wear to this sort of thing?”</p><p>“Your cut-off sweats will be ideal,” his mother suggested from the living room. Billy dug through his drawers and found the grey pants he’d cut above the knee during a particularly brutal California summer. He could only remember women in bikini bottoms with oversized t-shirts doing various exercises on the beach.</p><p>His mother continued, “There were a lot of witches running errands around town. It’s like when a natural disaster clears the grocery store shelves. Has Steve mentioned what he might be doing for the full moon?”</p><p>“I haven’t asked,” he called, jumping into the sweats and sniffing through his clean shirts. He glanced at the clock beside his bed and pulled on a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. He shrugged into his leather bomber even though he really didn’t need it this close to the full moon—his metabolism made his temperature inhumanly high—and paused for deodorant.</p><p>
  <em>If you go all wolfy, the teacher will chuck you out.</em>
</p><p>He wasn’t worried about the instructor so much as he was around a bunch of jumpy witches. Billy didn’t <em>smell</em>, per say, and certainly not in his bipedal form, but wolves did have their own aroma. They’re wild animals, come on. But arranging a first date to be a domestic exercise class during full moon eve might not have been the best idea.</p><p>Billy pivoted this way and that in front of his mirror, examining how the light moved over his arms. <em>You’re stronger than everyone else there. They’ll all sweat more than you anyway. You’re smoking hot. You’ll be fine.</em></p><p>
  <em>There you go, baby.</em>
</p><p>“MOM!”</p><p>“You’re gonna be late!” she sang alongside the small <em>pop</em> of a wine bottle uncorking. Billy charged out of the house, leaving the door open behind him to avoid slamming and breaking the glass panes in it.</p><p>It occurred to him when he neared the campus, that he had no idea where the witches actually had their class. But plenty of cars were going around the back of the main building, so Billy followed them and recognized Robin’s vehicle. He parked beside her as a surprising mix of both witches and wolves chatted and laughed their way into the building.</p><p>“Hey,” Robin greeted, slamming her car door and shouldering the strap of her mat.</p><p>Billy locked his car while his own—hastily purchased two hours ago—hung from the bell of his forearm. “Tell me honestly: how much shit am I getting into?”</p><p>She grinned but kept her mirth to a minimum. A keychain on her water bottle jingled as she said, “As much as I’d like to intimidate you, yoga’s not competitive. Dare I say, you’re actually meant to enjoy yourself. Only minimal pain.”</p><p>“Minimal,” he huffed, looking around for his reason for being here.</p><p>Robin observed this and voiced, “You know, given your moment with Nancy earlier, I’m surprised you never perceived me as a threat.”</p><p>Billy raised a brow at her and looked pointedly down at her shoes. “Dirty rainbow laces, short fingernails, and men’s cologne? I know a top when I see one.”</p><p>Robin looked a perfect mixture of proud, insulted, amused, and embarrassed. Billy consoled, “Don’t bust a vein.”</p><p>Much like Steve had given up on difficult things earlier, Robin waved him aside. “Steve!”</p><p>Billy turned to see him lowering his broom and reaching back to unzip the carrier wrapped in blinking Christmas lights. Tina jumped out wearing a neon green harness with silver stripes that reflected light. She rushed into the grass to roll around as Steve came over to store his broom in Robin’s car.</p><p>“Christmas lights?” Billy smiled, but as Steve jogged closer, blue eyes scanned over his jacket, easy-fitting t-shirt, and what looked like old gym shorts. Billy’s mind began to echo like a seaside cave with those gradient tan lines in view. <em>Thighs thighs thighsthighs—</em></p><p><em>Shut the hell up!</em> came Max’s brain from inside.</p><p>Billy’s eyes snapped up as Steve climbed out of Robin’s trunk. “What? It’s dark out.”</p><p>The moment he let go of the device, the lights went out. Robin’s car beeped with her locking it. “Remind me why you don’t just drive your own car?”</p><p>Without missing a beat, Steve declared with a toss of his head, “Flying styles my hair.”</p><p>“Aaand everything makes sense,” she sighed. “Come on, Dustin can only hold our spots for so long.”</p><p>“Tina,” Steve cooed, leaning over for the cat to jump up and stand on his shoulders. Her rear collapsed so he could hold her body as they entered the yoga space with her head swiveling around, mouth open for more scents to pass through her vomeronasal organ.</p><p>As Billy followed their lead in toeing off his shoes at the entrance, he wondered what this space had been used for first. Given the narrow, brick columns and little arches, it seemed like the area had originally been meant for horse stalls, or like…wine storage, even though it had since been renovated with light wooden flooring like a dance studio. It was spacious yet intimate, and he followed the others to the far side where Nancy and Jonathan conversed with a batch of kids. Max sat among them, but Dustin acted as a buffer between them, and then Robin, Steve, and Billy.</p><p>Steve set Tina down on Robin’s mat while he unrolled his own. He glanced at Billy doing the same, and then set his water bottle in between their mats. Billy smirked and helped himself to a sip. A small sound made him pivot to see the fluffy calico named Penny behind him, sniffing his mat. He reached for her, offering his fingers for her to smell. She shoved her soft head right into his palm.</p><p>“Oh, you’re nicer than Tina.”</p><p>Steve twisted to glare at him. “You take that back.”</p><p>“No,” he sassed, only to be entirely distracted by a dog almost knocking him over. Penny trotted to Will’s lap as Billy had his hands full with some kind of Border Collie-German Shepherd mix. The dog was large, with mostly long, black fur and floppy ears that had gotten stuck upright, which Billy corrected. “How many animals are allowed in here?”</p><p>She rolled over right in his lap, regardless of an older witch’s calls—who Billy assumed to be the instructor. Steve reached over to rub her dark golden chest. “As many as it takes to get the right chemicals in the brain.”</p><p>Jesus, that sounded a whole lot like psychiatry. Billy chose not to think too deeply on it, though, since Steve’s cotton shorts rode up to reveal aubergine, spandex shorts underneath. <em>Hmm…disappointing—</em></p><p>
  <em>BILLY.</em>
</p><p>“OW. Keep it down!” he barked across the space at Max. Steve, Robin, and Dustin’s heads swiveled between the pack siblings.</p><p>“<em>You</em> keep it down!”</p><p>Robin drawled, “Wolves, please.”</p><p>Then Mike muttered, “I guess they really are pack.”</p><p>The instructor clapped twice, and her dog rolled out of Billy’s lap the same time everyone faced to attention. “Folks coming in seem to have slowed down so I think we’ll get started. And we have some newcomers! I like to mix essential oils with our humidifiers, but is anyone allergic to anything?”</p><p>Someone on the other end of the room called out, “Blood oranges,” and Billy pointed at Max. “Mint.”</p><p>The instructor nodded over her box of vials and rearranged them so the offending oils were on one side. “I’m feeling a bergamot and lime kind of evening. Any objections?”</p><p>None came, so she turned on the diffusers sitting on the shelves at opposite ends of the room, out of the way of all the critters. Billy sniffed, but his nose did not tickle the way he expected. Perhaps there were so many people and animals, the citrus fragrance was just another on the pile, but he liked it. Fresh and kind of margarita-esc.</p><p>He peeked at Steve pushing a rainbow headband into his hair. He wondered if it had been a gift from Robin, or if Steve liked colorful things. Billy hadn’t known him long enough to see the extents of his wardrobe.</p><p>Steve laughed as Robin rolled Tina like a log, only for the cat to rush back into position, and get rolled again. Billy took the time to properly survey the roomful of Witches and Weres. Plenty had brought their mammal familiars—probably for safety reasons. A hedgehog napped on a little bed sticking out of a backpack. A number of dogs and cats hogged their humans’ mats. A pair of ferrets rolled and gnawed at each other.</p><p>Definitely not the stuff of terrifying legend.</p><p>“Alright,” the instructor settled on her mat with her dog, “regardless of anyone’s experience level, I like to do wind and wood work with newcomers. If you don’t know what that means, that’s because I talk with a lot of hippie mumbo-jumbo. But it’ll all make sense as we go. First, breathe in the wind…and there’s no restriction here. You want your neighbor to hear it. This style of breathing is also called ‘ocean breaths’…”</p><p>Billy knew <em>exactly</em> what that sounded like. He couldn’t help but smirk a little as the room filled with the ebb and flow of inland lungs. He knew the sound of Max’s breathing several mats down, but he let his focus rest between the instructor’s voice and Steve’s chest expanding. Billy didn’t want to overthink anything. He just wanted to get used to that sound.</p><p>It surprised him how much he liked the class. And how much he listened without trying. Then again, Billy was good at physical things, and a good memory made a lot of things slot into place, like grades.</p><p>When the teacher announced a five minute break, he glanced at the clock on the back wall next to the door. “It’s been an hour?”</p><p>“That’s the warm up,” Nancy informed. Billy met her gaze and read blatant tolerance there.</p><p>Then it occurred to him as he switched to Jonathan, “I haven’t seen you in the Weres’ morning class.”</p><p>Jonathan’s brows lifted and he explained, “Well, ballroom dancing was booked, and I can’t stand running, so I’m here.”</p><p>Billy ignored Nancy smiling at his taunt and almost jabbed, <em>You’re a wolf and you don’t like running?</em> but instead realized, “Wait, you can choose?”</p><p>Steve grinned and teased, “Your advisor probably took one look at you and thought,” his eyes widened theatrically, “ ‘Oh no, we gotta give this guy room.’ ”</p><p>That got a giggle out of Max. Billy reclined on his hands. “Well, if I’m going to be here anyway…might as well get credit for it, right? And you can’t say we don’t have classes together anymore.”</p><p>“Yaaay—ow!” Steve exclaimed when Billy shoved him with his foot.</p><p>“Do you bruise like a peach, pretty boy?”</p><p>“Only when idiots step on me.”</p><p>Dustin, Mike, and Will put their heads together and whispered loud enough for human ears to hear, “Is that a kink thing?”</p><p>“<em>Guys</em>,” Nancy scolded.</p><p>Billy left his foot against Steve, though, and they both looked down at Tina swatting at the tassel of his anklet. Steve poked the geometric design of the woven threads, and lingered on the wonky freshwater pearls in the knot. He swallowed and meant to divert his attention elsewhere, but caught on the sea glass on Billy’s necklace. Billy smirked softly, letting him look.</p><p>And then Tina got a little too energetic with her claws on his ankle. “Lady,” he declared, dragging the horizontal cat to his mat, “we need to talk.”</p><p>Steve’s shoulders hitched with wary mirth. “You’re not getting anywhere with those crazy eyes.”</p><p>Her blown out pupils followed his wagging finger until he stroked between her ears. She gnawed on his fist while her legs kicked at his knee. To her credit, the claws were kept to a minimum.</p><p>Billy looked at Steve. “You need to trade for the nicer one.”</p><p>That earned a sincere smile from Nancy the same time the instructor came back from taking her dog outside. Steve took his cat back like a ragdoll dragging over the floor. He slipped his hand under her harness and rubbed her chest, inciting loud purrs and slow blinks.</p><p>The next hour did not go by quickly. Billy did sweat, because as the teacher said, “As with trees, it’s the little things that make one strong. You have over six hundred muscles in your body. We’re going to use all the ones you ignore.”</p><p>A wolf simply has no need to bend backwards. Ever. Or spread their legs like <em>that</em>. And who the hell decided ‘downward dog’ was a <em>resting</em> pose?</p><p>It came as a huge relief when the instructor dimmed the lights and took them through the cool down poses. She moved around the room, making slight adjustments to posture, and at one point during ‘child’s pose,’ waited for Billy to inhale, and then pressed on his lower back. Heads turned at the loud pops in his hips.</p><p>“Oo! Did that hurt?”</p><p>“No,” he heaved, “but I felt it.”</p><p>“Sounded like your pelvis needed a little realignment. Be sure to breathe deep so oxygen gets down there.” She rubbed vigorous circles up his spine, and moved on to Steve. Similarly, she pushed him down with his exhalations, and when she got to his shoulder blades, the roots of his neck creaked.</p><p>The instructor returned to her mat and used a brass singing bowl to signal the end of the class. Billy raised a brow, wincing slightly against the sound. “Since we’re all excited for the weekend, I’ll save meditation for next week. Be safe and good luck with any magical endeavors.”</p><p>Conversation slowly bloomed back into the air. Billy liked how Steve’s lean form wobbled as he moved, loose and tired, though Billy was grateful for no morning workouts for a couple days. Tina hummed with affront at having to move off the mat for it to roll up, but she blinked up at Billy with surprised softness when he scooped her up to give Steve a break. The same surprise moved through Steve’s voice as they meandered outside. “Thanks.”</p><p>“She’ll like me eventually.”</p><p>Steve scoffed, “She already does. You would know if she didn’t like you.”</p><p>“Do her eyes glow red?”</p><p>“No, but she would piss on your car.”</p><p>Billy drank from his water bottle before handing it back along with, “So she throws tantrums.”</p><p>“Yes,” Steve answered shamelessly.</p><p>Billy leaned against his car with the cat on his shoulder while he asked, “What are you doing this weekend?”</p><p>For some reason, Steve sighed like he was annoyed by something and pointed at the gaggle of freshman talking and laughing. “I’m helping Dustin with—a stupid project.”</p><p>“Not the whole weekend,” he refuted, hoping it didn’t sound too much like a whine.</p><p>“During the day, yeah. This time tomorrow, I’ll be eating my weight in dumplings and noodles.”</p><p>Their heads turned at the kids loudly greeting somebody. “LUCAS!” Mike hollered, “Dude, the class already ended!”</p><p>“Not my fault, man, my sister held me up.”</p><p>The new kid’s sister snorted loudly. “Yeah, because <em>I’m</em> the one getting held back a whole half hour at the end of their class.”</p><p>Lucas rolled his eyes so hard his head moved with them. “Look, I’m here now. Are we going the movies, or what? Hi, Max.”</p><p>“Hey,” she chimed. The thread connecting hers and Billy's mind blushed with warmth, like the sun coming out on a spring day.</p><p>The sister grimaced. “Y’all are going to inflict that stench on a room of unsuspecting people? All right.”</p><p>“Erica!” Lucas scolded the same time Robin crooned, “Erica Sinclair.”</p><p>The girl’s puzzled eyes sharpened on Robin as her brother made a thankful prayer gesture behind her back. Robin sauntered across the parking lot with her hands on her hips. “We meet again.”</p><p>Erica propped one on her own hip like some kind of standoff. “Indeed we do.”</p><p>Steve joined to lean over Robin’s shoulder. “Don’t take shit from the twelve year old.”</p><p>Robin smushed Steve’s cheeks and pushed him away. Erica remarked, “I’m thirteen as of last month, Steve. Keep up.”</p><p>Steve begrudgingly relented, “Happy birthday.”</p><p>Suddenly, Erica’s face brightened, causing Steve and Robin to take a step backward. “You know what I would just love as a present?”</p><p>“Don’t say it,” Steve ordered.</p><p>Billy set Tina inside Robin’s car and moved to join them as the girl rattled off in one, long word, “A triple-decker sundae supreme with extra sauce and cherries.”</p><p>“HA!” Robin snapped her fingers. “We don’t work there anymore! You little tyrant, you have to harass someone else!”</p><p>“You still owe me for child endangerment!”</p><p>Steve griped, “You’re completely fine! <em>Are your parents here? </em>” he added under his breath with a scan of the parking lot.</p><p>“Child endangerment is still an endangered child,” Erica declared like some kind of lawyer.</p><p>Robin looked to the sky for mercy. “Erica, you’re the least likely person to ever let danger touch them.”</p><p>The girl grinned, and Billy’s eyes narrowed in on her teeth. “You’re right. But I still want my sundae.”</p><p>Steve complained, “We must’ve given you four hundred free samples. You robbed us blind.”</p><p>She smirked contently. “Your eyes were wide open, sailor boy. And Scoops was the only place in the mall I could eat! Do you know how hard it is to find a menu that caters to my diet?”</p><p><em>Diet</em>…Billy’s mind absorbed as he looked at the others. Lucas spoke to Dustin and Max while Mike and laughed and listened. Lucas’s pointed eyeteeth matched his sister’s.</p><p>“Vampires? <em>You’re vampires?</em> ”</p><p>Max’s head snapped up as his growl rumbled like sharp gravel and his pupils dilated. Mike and Will yanked Erica back as Steve and Robin rotated into a wall in front of Billy. His voice descended into something more wolf than man with every word. <em>“Max, you’re friends with a vampire?”</em></p><p>But Lucas had to speak next. “The hell is his problem?”</p><p>Billy charged forward, knocking Steve to the ground and Robin caught herself on the hood of a nearby car. The kids scattered apart from Mike and Lucas holding onto Erica, and Dustin swallowed dryly as he stepped in front of Lucas—</p><p>Nancy stepped right in front of Billy and pressed her palm to his chest. He froze. His anger thrashed with panic. She barely touched him, but he couldn’t move.</p><p>“You’re not going to last long if this is your temper.”</p><p>Steve.</p><p>Steve separated them. He tugged Billy back and raked a hand through his hair as he shielded Nancy, Dustin, and Lucas. Without looking over his shoulder, he ordered, “Get them out of here!”</p><p>Jonathan practically carried Erica back to his car. Nancy ushered Dustin and Lucas along, and somehow they all loaded into Jonathan’s outdated vehicle.</p><p>Steve’s features looked aquiline as he stared Billy down.</p><p>And Billy…Billy didn’t say anything.</p><p>Robin’s voice broke through the silence of whatever crowd remained to watch the commotion. “I’ll take you home. Come on.”</p><p>Steve stepped aside. As if freed, Billy realized Max had stayed, but now warily let Robin and Steve take her to their car. He could feel her mind vibrating from shock, but she was silent to him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*face palm*<br/>Billy, baby, what the fuck.</p><p>I made a tumblr blog just for Harringrove things, but I'll be posting updates to both! So if you're already following my main blog for notifications, you can stay put :)<br/><a href="https://neonponders.tumblr.com/">My harringrove Tumblr~</a><br/><a href="http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/">My main Tumblr~</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Rodeo</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter almost got twice as long lol but I hope you enjoy &lt;3</p><p>There is a little bit of ableist speech regarding color blindness, but it's brief and called out.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“This is your plan?” Steve asked through a yawn. “Leaving <em>Musketeers</em> around for him?”</p><p>“It’s his favorite food,” Dustin defended, similarly puffy-eyed given the time of morning. “And so long as he doesn’t discover 7-11s, these will keep him nearby.”</p><p>“Hm,” Steve hummed dubiously, looking away from the saltlick some wildlife hobbyist had left in the woods. “Tell that to the raccoons.”</p><p>Dustin likewise peered at the carcass only a few feet from the saltlick. Its tail made it identifiable. Steve heaved the end of his broom over his shoulder as he looked through the trees. To his human eyes, it all looked so ambiguously green and grey. The forest had begun to bloom and smelled lush with fragrant rain. He blinked at the sky, the color and smell promising afternoon showers.</p><p>“It’s getting bigger.”</p><p>“Raccoons aren’t much bigger than opossums,” Dustin refuted.</p><p>“Clearly you’ve never seen raccoons fight in the McDonald’s parking lot. Those garbage guts treat second hand fries like it’s water in a desert.”</p><p>“And <em>you</em> weren’t there to see d’Art munching on my cat. Mews was three times bigger than him!”</p><p>Steve sighed with a thankful recollection of locking Tina inside the house before leaving, and started back toward the abandoned lot where he’d parked his car. “No offense, dude, but with your mom, that’s not saying much.”</p><p>“She doesn’t believe diet cat food is healthy,” Dustin both defended and agreed.</p><p>“Whatever. The point is, this things is learning how to fight, and it’s territorial over your nougat treats.”</p><p>Dustin tread quietly beside him for a moment; as quietly as his leaf and twig crunching allowed. “That’s good, right?”</p><p>Steve turned a piteous look at him. “I don’t think that has anything to do with you, buddy. Sorry.”</p><p>Emerging upon the cracked asphalt of the parking lot, Steve’s car unlocked and its doors burst open at his command. He put his broom carefully in the trunk, since its base resembled a pincushion with all the nails he and Jonathan Byers had hammered into it during an extremely stressful evening, once upon a time.</p><p>“So, what now?” Dustin asked. He stood outside the driver’s side door while Steve landed in the seat. He reached behind him for something in the glove box.</p><p>“You can mark on your map whatever kills we find, and how fresh they are. Like a really messed up timeline.”</p><p>Dustin brightened, “Okay! And we can line up the patterns with the opossums we found last time! We should be able to have a range of where he sleeps, or at least where his hunting grounds are.”</p><p>Steve could only heave another sigh and shake up the nail polish bottles he’d retrieved. “I’m so not cut out for this.”</p><p>Dustin’s body pressed against his BMW while he used the roof as a table for his map. “Tracking? Neither am I, but radio stuff is remarkably similar to animal migration patterns. Mr. Clark once said that—”</p><p>“Dustin,” Steve curtailed. “You can be the brains, but I don’t need to hear about it.”</p><p>The kid grumpily watched him paint his pointer nail black. He’d clearly done this before, as he made quick work of one hand. “What’s that for?”</p><p>“War paint.”</p><p>“We’re not killing d’Art!”</p><p>“I was joking, but if that face full of teeth comes at you or me, I’m swinging first, apologizing later,” he declared while pointing his brush at his armed broom. He screwed the bottle shut and finished his thumbnail with a robin’s egg blue. The same blue went on the middle finger of his other hand, and the rest got painted black.</p><p>“Wow. A top coat too?” Dustin taunted, and got a strip of polish on his cheek for it. “Ugh! Jeez… It’s not my problem if you want ugly, patent leather nails.”</p><p>“They look like obsidian! <em>Hello</em>?” Steve argued.</p><p>“Maybe you could be magically <em>tracking</em> instead of primping. Billy’s not even here.”</p><p>“This has nothing to do with him,” Steve returned, but the wind had gone out of his argument. “This would already be done if you just asked Jonathan instead of me.”</p><p>Dustin’s shoulders slumped, which wasn’t saying much considering he lacked the collarbones to keep them up. “I didn’t mean it. I’m just…worried about him. And I wish I was better at stuff.”</p><p>After a moment, Steve commiserated, “Yeah… Why haven’t you asked Jonathan?”</p><p>Dustin shrugged as he rotated to slump against the car. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t want Will brought into it, ‘cause…you know.”</p><p>Steve nodded. “Sure.”</p><p>“And when you’re scared…you wanna stick with the person you trust, right? I know you better than Jonathan.”</p><p>Steve pointed skeptical eyes at him. “I’m pretty sure all of you thought I was a pile of shit until last year. You only stuck with me since I was a last resort.”</p><p>“Not that you were a pile of shit, just covered in it,” Dustin smiled. “You hung out with douchebag Weres, but you washed off.”</p><p>He screwed on the lid of the topcoat a bit more vigorously than was required. “Yeah. That doesn’t mean my bullshit was okay.”</p><p>“You were there when it mattered. All the times it mattered. And you’re still here. Is he really your mate?”</p><p>Steve blinked up at him, processing the topic switch. He shook his head and looked elsewhere. “I don’t know. We haven’t shared a sleep.”</p><p>Dustin opened the back door to sit in the backseat. “What is that like?”</p><p>Steve shrugged, holding his fingers open to dry. “I don’t know. Supposedly your soul mate can just…walk right into your Sanctum Sleep. I don’t know what that feels like.”</p><p>“Kinda spooky,” Dustin mused. “A random person can just walk through all your magic.”</p><p>“Try terrifying.”</p><p>Steve could practically hear the cogs of Dustin’s brain moving. “Do you like him?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I’ve barely known him a week. Even if his magic is special to mine, it’s just like meeting any other stranger.”</p><p>Dustin stretched his legs out, wagging his feet like windshield wipers. “It’s gotta be nice on the wolf’s side. To just…know. When you’re wide awake.”</p><p>Steve nodded a little, silently agreeing. “As much as Witches and Weres talk shit to each other, they say that Weres get to walk and talk with that primal, old magic. We have to go into our Sanctums to even get a whiff of it.”</p><p>“So much for being the ‘more evolved.’ ”</p><p>“Hey,” Steve chided softly, “you don’t believe that, right?”</p><p>“Of course not. By that logic, Lucas and Erica should’ve drained the town by now. I guess Billy didn’t get the same lessons on tolerance, arbitrary genetics, or…I don’t know—keeping your teeth to yourself.”</p><p>Steve couldn’t help but laugh. Dustin mirrored it with his own smile and added, “I thought California was supposed to be awesome. Max is pretty awesome. She skateboards.”</p><p>Steve shrugged while analyzing his drying nails. “His mom’s all right. Max held it together but she seemed pretty spooked by the whole thing. I never would’ve thought he’d have beef with vampires. But again: it’s only been a week.”</p><p>Dustin shifted in his seat and surveyed the sky. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”</p><p>His eyes caught on Steve holding up the nail polish bottles. “Do you want any of this?”</p><p>Dustin perked up. “Yeah!”</p><p>Steve inserted his car keys to make Dustin’s window go down and used the sill to hold his hand steady. He painted all of Dustin’s nails the light teal, apart from a black-nailed pinkie on one hand, and the thumb on the other.</p><p>“The top too?” he complained as Steve unscrewed the clear gloss.</p><p>“Hey, do you want to be cheap or shiny?”</p><p>Dustin stoically glared at him. “Do you have a matte coat?”</p><p>“Do I look like a nail salon?”</p><p>“It’s at home, isn’t it?”</p><p>“It’s at home. Now shut up and stay still.”</p><p>* * *</p><p>
  <em>You’re not going to last long if this is your temper.</em>
</p><p>Billy lay on his bed, staring at his ceiling. If he thought too long on the previous evening, his innards did painful twists. But he couldn’t <em>not</em> think about it.</p><p>Vampires. Fucking <em>vampires</em>.</p><p>His childhood city had strong feelings about keeping certain species away from each other. Humans there had as much animosity towards vampires as werewolves did, so it had been a long-standing union between humans and Weres. He’d only seen vampires during the middle school fieldtrip to the prison in the next county over. Which…in retrospect, reeked of mental grooming. The vampires there had every kind of stereotypical crime they could have: assault—sexual or otherwise—murder, mental coercion, laundering money and blood, etc. But Billy had been like any other kid posed with a field trip; if he could miss class, he would, regardless of the venue. He’d never given vampires much thought before or after that day.</p><p>Until Max’s brain went all warm and sparkly in the presence of one.</p><p>He’d meant to separate her from them, but then Steve and Robin <em>got in the way</em>. Obstructed his need to establish safety in place of their alpha.</p><p>Steve had...kept him from his pack mate.</p><p>Billy’s mind clashed with instinct and the hard facts that the Sinclairs were kids. Vampire kids. But kids.</p><p>And Billy had just…bulldozed Steve to the ground and kept walking.</p><p>He scrubbed his hands over his face, the moment that Steve yanked him away from Nancy and stepped between them burned into his eyes. The witches identified him as a threat. Steve marked him as a threat.</p><p>His inner wolf’s claws dug into his soul, unashamed and unapologetic in its position to protect Max. But the wolf’s heart bled.</p><p>Billy turned over on his bed, simultaneously drawing his shirt over his head. He could feel the full moon beyond the dark, overcast sky. His boxers were easy enough to kick off. Many wolves waited for the stars to decorate the sky before they ran in their furs, but Billy let the shift happen even though it was hardly noon. His bed creaked with the change in weight.</p><p>One of his ears twisted around at the soft whoosh of air as his bedroom door opened behind him. His mother’s feet padded over the floor and her weight made his long, wolf form rock a little on the mattress.</p><p>
  <em>Did I fuck up?</em>
</p><p>“A little bit,” she murmured. It was a courtesy. Respecting his mental space by speaking aloud. His large chest heaved a long sigh. His mother leaned back to have physical contact with him. “Susan told me. Max is…similarly moping.”</p><p>His mind bristled at the word and swirled like a storm cloud tilting over, threatening to touch ground. But even as he raged, his alpha remained like the sun above him.</p><p>“She feels bad for springing that on you.”</p><p><em>I don’t care</em>, he lied. For all the good that did.</p><p>His mother gave that the grace period of a tantrum and pushed on, “Even if he stepped in front of you, he got Max home. Your wolf can rest about that.”</p><p>He was hardly satisfied, but if his alpha bid it, then he had to obey. And his duty to his pack was the only thing keeping him afloat from the rest of his problems.</p><p>
  <em>What does that leave me with?</em>
</p><p>The sound of Steve’s body hitting asphalt. Hard eyes shielding a mind and heart that were not on Billy’s side.</p><p>“An old fashioned apology, starlight.”</p><p>The wolf chuffed into his pillow.</p><p>“I know,” his mother remarked, “not your thing.”</p><p>She lingered in silence for a while. He knew she was thinking on something, but he stayed on his side of their mental threads. In the distance, he could feel Max and Susan in the house behind theirs, on the next street over so they shared one large backyard. He felt the rest of his pack the way a neighbor’s lights shine through the darkness, but he didn’t reach for their windows.</p><p>His mother’s hand pushed between his ears, scratching through the fur on his forehead and between his eyes. He sighed again, which was quite a thing out of a large wolf. She rumpled his ears and said, “Your soul needs Steve first. Apologize to the fangy ones later.”</p><p>She left the door open a crack on her way out, leaving a wide-eyed wolf behind her. He’d never even considered apologizing to <em>vampires</em>.</p><p>* * *</p><p>If nothing else, Steve could consider the day a success for finally convincing Dustin to tell <em>somebody</em> about his runaway science project.</p><p>“You did <em>what</em>?” Lucas balked from his place in the backseat of Steve’s car. “You’re telling me that gross, slimy thing is on the loose?”</p><p>“He’s only slimy because he’s been molting!” Dustin defended.</p><p>“That doesn’t help your case, buddy,” Steve murmured while twisting the windshield wiper settings on the knob behind his steering wheel. He pulled up to the McDonald’s drivethru and greeted the person on the other end of the speaker. “Hi, can I get two Oreo Mcflurries and a box of the Red Mcarons, please?”</p><p>As he pulled around and counted dollar bills, Lucas commented, “Do we know whether d’Art likes rain? What are we doing here?”</p><p>Dustin informed, “He’s cold blooded—”</p><p>“Gross.”</p><p>“—<em>so</em>, the temperature drop from the rain should draw him out over the next few days.”</p><p>Steve interrupted with desserts shoved in their faces. “Look alive, dillweeds. Lucas, check those. Mandy, behind the counter, is sweet but colorblind.”</p><p>Lucas was already crunching on his blood flavored macaron cookies, “It’s right.”</p><p>Dustin scolded, “I think she could just read the box, Steve.”</p><p>He didn’t respond to that and instead waved to the folks inside the windows and pulled away to park behind the building with the dumpsters. Lucas pieced two and two together. “We’re not dumpster diving, are we?”</p><p>“Nope, just checking for bodies,” Dustin chirped and then looked at Steve, who pulled out a solo umbrella from the pocket of his door. “You’re not coming with me?”</p><p>Steve grimaced. “Dude.”</p><p>Dustin looked back at Lucas, who shook his head with a mouthful of macarons. Dustin exclaimed, “Are you serious? What good are you?”</p><p>“I’m fast and I have good aim,” he declared behind a hand that caught his crumbs. He waved his wrist rocket at him. “I’ve got your back, man.”</p><p>Dustin hissed a disappointed sigh as he got out of the car. “Some friends.”</p><p>The pouring rain made it unlikely that any employees would look out here, and the full moon made them the only ones in the lot. Steve rotated in his seat to watch out of Dustin’s window. Lucas leaned forward in between the front seats to do the same and asked, “Bodies?”</p><p>Steve shrugged. “Raccoons and stuff. We’ve been finding them around town; some fresh, some not. There’s no pattern with this thing.”</p><p>Lucas gave that some thought. “What if it’s like a snake?”</p><p>Steve looked at him. “What d’you mean?”</p><p>“Like, what if it doesn’t need to eat regularly? It can chow down on a raccoon and be fine for a few days?”</p><p>Steve inhaled deeply, taking the seconds to absorb his hypothesis while Dustin jumped clumsily with the umbrella, trying to get a look inside a dumpster without climbing. “That would be the first amount of good news to do with this thing. But the way it left a trail of opossums last week, I wouldn’t count on it.”</p><p>“If it’s slowing down, does that mean he stopped growing?”</p><p>“Don’t ask me. I’m just the driver.”</p><p>“But you’re a witch. Can’t you track this thing?”</p><p>“I’ve been telling Dustin to talk to Jonathan every time he brings up his pet.”</p><p>“The rain’s going to screw up any tracks or smells. If Dustin left a magical, like, fingerprint or something on it—”</p><p>“Listen. I like your faith in me, but that’s outside of my ability wheelhouse. The only animal I’m even remotely good at tracking is my cat, and it’s taken over ten years to establish that connection.”</p><p>Lucas went quiet for a moment and they watched Dustin try to prop the umbrella on some garbage bags to keep himself somewhat dry as he climbed up for a better look. “What about Robin? She’s cool, right?”</p><p>Steve’s brows lifted over his Mcflurry. “Yeah, she’s cool.”</p><p>“Then why not ask her?”</p><p>“Because this is Dustin’s rodeo. I’ve told him to ask for better help than me.”</p><p>Dustin pointed outside the window. “Do you really think he’s capable of riding any figurative bull?”</p><p>They both peered at the guy with one leg hanging uselessly behind him while he shoved garbage bags out of the way. Steve defended, “He’s made of rubber. He’ll be fine.”</p><p>Lucas sighed haughtily. “Fine, a horse, then. Somebody needs to take the reins. Dustin’s a tinkerer, not a navigator or a driver.”</p><p>Steve leveled dubious eyes at him. “Then what are you?”</p><p>“I’m the knight with a winning smile.”</p><p>Steve didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of laughing, but he was so taken off guard that his hand caught Mcflurry spittle. Lucas laughed with him as he admitted defeat but collapsing back in his seat—</p><p>Dustin shrieked outside the car. The umbrella crunched under his weight falling out of the dumpster. Steve’s surprise made all the car doors burst open, making it easy for him to sprint around to the trunk for his broom as Lucas scanned the area with his wrist rocket at the ready.</p><p>“Dustin! Dustin?”</p><p>“Where is it?” Lucas yelled over the rain.</p><p>“<em>Dustin!</em>” Steve ordered, taking the chance to grab the back of his jacket and haul the kid up to a sitting position.</p><p>“I’m fine,” he heaved, trying recover from knocking the air out of his lungs. “Fine…was a rat.”</p><p>Lucas’s arms went limp. “Jesus Christ, man.”</p><p>“Real funny,” Steve seconded, raking a hand through his now <em>thoroughly</em> soaked hair.</p><p>“Was it a dead rat, at least?” Lucas griped, taking Dustin’s hand to help him up.</p><p>“No. There’s like a whole family in there.”</p><p>The trunk of the car slammed behind them and Steve announced, “I’m calling it here. Get in, I’m taking you two home.”</p><p>Dustin groaned as he started shaking the umbrella of rain while it still poured around him. The broken spokes poking out of the fabric induced him to chuck it into the dumpster. He dived into the car with, “You can take us both to my house. Mom’s likes company during the moons.”</p><p>Lucas exclaimed while Steve reversed out of the parking spot, “Did she record the <em>Buffy</em> season premier?”</p><p>“Yes, she recorded it. You have the whole boxed series!”</p><p>“I don’t want to impose.”</p><p>“And asking her to record something isn’t?”</p><p>“It’s the <em>experience</em>. The ritual of anticipation and preparation for the cinematic marvel that is—”</p><p>Steve smoothly interrupted, “I am so dumping your asses in the ditch when we get there.”</p><p>The freshmen looked at each other. Lucas’s hands moved as he signed, <em>He hasn’t seen it?</em></p><p>
  <em>Nope. I’ve tried. He laughs every time Buffy’s stunt double shows up.</em>
</p><p>Lucas’s eyes rolled. <em>It’s the flaws that make the show shine.</em></p><p>Empty streets made the drive to Dustin’s house an easy one. His mother heard Steve’s car as he pulled under the carport and waved them in. Her poofy, out of date curls were soft against Steve’s face when she hugged him. “You’re soaking wet! Will you come in for something warm to drink?”</p><p>“Thanks, Mrs. Henderson, but I think I’ll head back for a shower.”</p><p>“That’s a good idea. Dusty, you get going and Lucas, you can borrow his clothes while I put yours in the dryer.”</p><p>She bustled into the house to take care of things, yelling for Dustin to put his clothes in the bathroom sink instead of on the floor. Meanwhile, Steve held Lucas in place under the carport. “Hey, uh…can I have a minute?”</p><p>Lucas turned to him; he pulled off his bandana to squeeze out the water over the concrete while Steve gestured vaguely between them.</p><p>“I, um. I assume you’ve heard about Billy and me?”</p><p>“Sure,” the teen answered brusquely. “Not sure I believe it, yet.”</p><p>Steve closed his eyes over an inhalation, nodding. “That makes two of us. But. Regardless, he shouldn’t have acted like that. Last night. I don’t know where that came from but it isn’t cool. And if…he <em>is</em> fated to me, then…well, either way I’m not going to stand for it. I’m trying to say I’m sorry about the whole thing.”</p><p>Lucas looked younger as he listened. Truly just a kid going on fifteen, even though he answered, “Steve, you don’t have anything to apologize for. I mean…” He glanced inside the house. “Our rat pack it weird as hell, at best, but you fit right in. I wouldn’t have guessed the preppy douchebag king of the school would actually be cool, but you are. You’re a good dude. I like you, but your apology doesn’t mean anything. You didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe the other douche is surprisingly cool too, but I don’t know. I won’t know until he proves it.”</p><p>And Steve was just twenty going on way too much that he didn’t feel qualified for. He sighed heavily, looking elsewhere. “You’re right,” he said quietly, and then turned back to his car. “You’re right.”</p><p>Lucas’s weight shifted as he watched Steve drive away. His lips pursed to the side as he nibbled on his cheek, before going inside.</p><p>* * *</p><p>All at once, Billy felt <em>horrible</em>. Like the weight of the past evening had finally settled in his belly and he needed to vomit or run it off. His alpha’s words smacked him in the face: <em>Your soul needs Steve first.</em></p><p><em>Steve</em>.</p><p>What the hell was he doing? Lying in bed all day while the moon was full! It was <em>their</em> time. The moon shined for both wolves and witches and Billy was just <em>lying here.</em></p><p>He rolled off the bed and nosed his door open. He charged through the house toward the front door—wide open for the breeze and sound of rain to drift through the house.</p><p>“Billy? <em>Billy</em>,” his mother called to no avail. The sky was dark as he trotted down the stairs and took off across the lawn. The rain and early, February evening made it deceptively late in the day as he circled around his yard, ran past the Mayfield house, and made for Steve’s neighborhood. He knew where Steve lived. Probably everyone in town knew where he lived, but Annette Harrington had left their address on the pad of paper hanging by the front door before leaving their house. Billy may or may not have run a lap around the neighborhood in his furs when he couldn’t sleep for being excited over Friday’s date. Nothing intrusive, but he knew the fastest route between his and Steve’s house.</p><p>He could feel and hear his mother running behind him in her furs. She caught up easily and didn’t try to stop him, though there was an undercurrent of, <em>Maybe this is why fated ones are revered. They’re impossible to discipline</em>.</p><p>Which was really a kind way of saying Billy had always been difficult to control. But that’s why he truly loved his mother and never wanted to contest her being alpha. She knew when to tell him he was wrong without stifling who he wanted to be.</p><p>And as they drew nearer and nearer to Steve’s house, she tried to curb some of his rampant yearnings with, <em>Will you at least try to knock before breaking the doors down?</em></p><p>But it was flint sparks to his barrel of gasoline. Under the moon and in his furs, Billy was both more himself and something entirely <em>other</em>. His baser urges sat in the driver’s seat, honest and in charge. Since he respected and loved his mother, this usually wasn’t a problem. Usually.</p><p>Now his wolf whined in his mind and in his voice, doubling his speed up the Harrington’s soaked driveway and rearing up to slam his front paws on those crimson double doors, bright and easy to see like the universe had painted the bulls eye for him to find. He cooed a brief howl at the house, pushing so the doors rattled in their frame. It was as good of a knock as they were going to get.</p><p>
  <em>Steve! Steve SteveSteveSteveSteveSteve—</em>
</p><p>Why were the damn doors in the way? There shouldn’t be anything in the way—</p><p><em>Billy, for the love of god, do not scratch the wood</em>, his alpha ordered even as his nails trailed ruthlessly over the doors.</p><p>The way a light bulb flashes before it goes out, his mother’s brain sparked with surprise at the doors swinging open. Billy landed on all fours and completely ignored the witch standing a little ways inside the house, hand on her hip. Billy immediately sniffed the welcome mat, found Steve’s wet and discarded Nikes and followed the fading, wet sock prints to the stairs. His head lifted, ears cocked at the sound of water running.</p><p>
  <em>Upstairs! UpstairsUpstairsShowerHe’sshoweringSteveSteve—</em>
</p><p>Annette stood in mild affront and surprised patience as she watched the large wolf bound right up her stairs. Less than a minute later, Tina slinked down and past her, growling at being so disturbed.</p><p>Annette turned back to the other wolf on her stoop. Lillian groaned with an apologetic shake of her large head—</p><p>The witch’s shoulders jumped at the shriek from upstairs that started a tumultuous chain reaction of sounds that made the ceiling thunder. Her son screamed a millisecond before a metallic pop caused a ricocheting crash, and she and Lillian bolted up the stairs as loud barking ensued.</p><p>“THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” Steve cried.</p><p>“Steve?” his mother called, entering his bedroom in time to see Billy leap onto the bed, obviously planting himself in way to declare that he wasn’t going anywhere. And then he seemed to realize where he was, because he sniffed the bed and rolled right onto his side. Like a wolf in a fresh field of clover or fresh snow, he lounged in his mate’s scent.</p><p>“I’m naked!” Steve exclaimed from the bathroom.</p><p>Billy’s head jerked up at the groan from his alpha in the hallway. <em>You’re barely more than a wet dog right now. Get off the bed!</em></p><p>He stayed where he was.</p><p>“What broke?” Annette asked, magically closing the shower curtain for her son’s dignity.</p><p>“The showerhead shot off and hit the mirror,” he said from underneath the inelegant waterfall from the pipe. He washed the remaining suds from his hair while his mother scrutinized the damage done to the bathroom. Glass shards covered the vanity and the floor. The dented showerhead sat in the rubble but so did small pieces chipped out of the walls.</p><p>“We’ll be making a trip to the hardware store before we pick up dinner. Stay in there, there’s glass everywhere.”</p><p>“Can you hand me a towel?” Steve grumbled as the water turned off.</p><p>His mother did more than that. She retrieved three towel robes from her master bathroom and put two in the guest room. As Steve cinched his around himself and used a towel to dry his hair, Lillian’s voice called from the hallway, “I can use the glass, if you don’t mind supplying a box for me to carry it.”</p><p>Steve glared at a robed Billy flopping once more onto his bed. Until the glass was swept up, he stood trapped in his tub. His mother handled an actual cleaning broom while she asked, “You want the glass?”</p><p>Billy supplied, “She’s an artist.”</p><p>Lillian tried to lighten the situation with, “I don’t believe in bad luck if the mirror is made into something else. Then it’s not broken.”</p><p>“That’s a nice outlook,” Annette said while offering a hand to help Steve out of the tub and into his room. “I left superstition behind me once I had a toddler in the house, though.”</p><p>Lillian laughed in a way only an empathetic mother could. “I’m happy to run home for my wallet. It’s only right for us to cover the cost of damages.”</p><p>“It’s not so bad. The most expensive thing will be the mirror; otherwise we have spare paint in the garage. We just need spackle and a new showerhead. Maybe plumber’s tape.”</p><p>Billy watched Steve discretely get dressed under his robe while Lillian decided, “Billy will help with the repairs. He does better with a task during the moon anyway.”</p><p>He looked at his mother standing in the hallway with her arms crossed. She smiled sweet as poison and he kept his mind and mouth shut.</p><p>Annette asked from the bathroom, “Steve, what time is it?”</p><p>Knowing her thoughts, he said, “The stores close in an hour.”</p><p>“Where’s your tape measurer?”</p><p>Billy didn’t know why Steve would have a tape measurer in his room, but he retrieved it from a drawer and climbed onto his vanity counter to measure the wall for a new mirror. During the minutes that passed, Billy looked around at his mate’s space. A white, scentless candle burned on his desk and a row of colorful succulents sat on his windowsill, listening to the rain through the screen in the open window. An old <em>Blondie</em> album cover of Debbie Harry licking the side of a vinyl record was pinned to the wall, but so was a framed movie still from <em>The Little Mermaid</em>; signed by—Billy presumed, if the flamboyant gold signatures were anything to go by—the Disney park cast members for Ariel <em>and</em> Eric.</p><p>The room held all the evidence of a life lived in it, including the collaged quality of phases and interests coming and going. The bed had been shoved into the corner opposite the door, out of the way. Everything stood out of the way. Tina’s mansion of a cat tree stood in the corner. The desk and dresser were against the wall. Some kind of pothos, viney thing grew from a pot hanging from the ceiling. Two yoga mats lay side by side on the floor, like one large, tactile mat. For what purpose, Billy didn’t know.</p><p>There was so much to see in this room despite its minimal appearance at first glance. The massive, purple beach blanket underneath the yoga mats—<em>Is Steve’s favorite color purple?</em> The bouquet of fresh orange roses and oregano beside the candle—<em>Steve’s almost as sensitive to smells as me</em>. Billy wanted to touch every texture and see how Steve lived in this room.</p><p>The metal tape snapped back into its case as the Harringtons emerged from the bathroom. Annette said to no one in particular, “We’ll sweep up the glass into a box later. We need to get everything before the stores close. It’s probably best for the Weres to travel in their furs.”</p><p>Billy pulled his arms right out of the robe sleeves and trotted behind Steve on all fours. His mother announced, “I’ll head on home, but you have my permission to turn my son into a squirrel if he’s too unruly. I’ll come by tomorrow for the glass and to pay for whatever you’ll let me.”</p><p>Billy chuffed as Annette laughed. “I’m happy to put the boys to some impromptu renovation projects I’ve been neglecting. Are you sure you shouldn’t be together? Full moon is a sensitive time.”</p><p>“Oh, he knows I expect him back for dinner,” Lillian declared in her polite, yet somehow lethal way.</p><p>Annette chimed, “I’ll get the door for you unless I can drop you off?”</p><p>Lillian smiled before she ducked into the guest room to de-robe. “I enjoy a run in the rain.”</p><p>Annette closed the front door behind the alpha and Billy heard a car in the garage unlock. “Pile in, boys.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Lucas, my friend, my guy, my dude. You could have worded that better.</p><p>And no one is prepared for a giant wolf in the shower, Billy, let alone a cold nose poking their butt cheek.</p><p>I made a tumblr blog just for Harringrove things, but I'll be posting updates to both! So if you're already following my main blog for notifications, you can stay put :)<br/><a href="https://neonponders.tumblr.com/">My harringrove Tumblr~</a><br/><a href="http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/">My main Tumblr~</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Landmine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Gods above, today was so shitty BUT speaking of Super Moons haha it's not something I made up for the story. One is happening right NOW!! April's full moon is called the Pink Moon and she's just gorgeous. I'm really glad I got this up in time for her &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cars were not built for wolf passengers. Steve’s mother thankfully had a newer car, in which Steve folded the backseats into the floor to give him room, but the roof was so low that he had to sit all the way down to be comfortable. Billy’s nose tilted up in the air, scenting the wet remnants of conditioner in Steve’s hair and the serum he had haphazardly shoved through it with his fingers before leaving.</p><p>He looked nice. Disheveled in a fresh, clean way. His crimson sweatshirt complimented his dark hair. His nails were painted. The wolf blinked contemplatively, filing that away for later. Those fingertips pushed his hair behind his ear as he listened to something Annette said—</p><p>Billy’s wet nose pushed behind his ear, making a high-pitched gurgle escape Steve’s throat. His shoulder hitched, knocking Billy’s snout higher into his hair. Billy’s eyes closed against the brunt of Steve’s hand clumsily trying to push him away. But his giggles urged the tip of Billy’s tongue out to taste the patch of skin behind his ear before he retreated.</p><p>The car turned into a parking spot, and Billy jumped out to trot under the rain to the pavilion awning of the hardware store. He shook off as Steve held an umbrella for himself and his mother, similarly shaking it off before they entered the warehouse-styled building.</p><p>“You two: spackle, showerhead, plumber’s tape. I’ll get the mirror.”</p><p>Steve curtailed, “<em>Mom</em>, don’t argue with anybody over aluminum or silver, please.”</p><p>“I’ll do no such thing. They probably don’t even offer silver mirrors anyway.”</p><p>“It’s for a <em>bathroom</em>. We have food to pick up,” Steve insisted.</p><p>“I know where your priorities are. Go,” she shooed. “The paint section and plumbing is where you need to go.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Steve sighed through his first steps in the direction of paint. Some employees and passersby gave them odd looks, but only briefly since Billy’s size, blue eyes, and unique fur gave him away as a resident. The moisture in his hair made all of his browns and tawny golds curve a little differently than a normal wolf’s straight hair.</p><p>He strolled beside Steve through the various containers of wall repair items. Until he stepped into Steve’s legs, rubbing his wet fur against clean jeans. And knocking Steve into the hanging display of spackle spatulas.</p><p>“Hey!” he coughed through an involuntary laugh. “If you’re trying to talk to me, just remember the ‘you break it, you buy it’ rule. Oh.”</p><p>He focused on the high shelf of pint containers, reading the labels and prices while Billy whined softly. He ducked his head to catch Steve’s palm on his face.</p><p>
  <em>Just touch me. Touch me. Tell me why you paint your nails. Tell me if you like purple. Are roses your favorite?</em>
</p><p>Steve’s hand curled around his head, and for too brief a moment, sandwiched Billy’s cheek against his waist before he reached up for one of the containers. More so to himself, he said, “We have a spatula at home, so…plumbing…”</p><p>They reached the end of the aisle and Steve looked around at the store’s signage to find what direction they needed to go. At least, until Billy bodily guided him in the right direction. <em>My witch is not a handyman.</em></p><p>As if hearing his thoughts, Steve murmured, “I can forage in the woods but I can’t read fast.”</p><p>Billy rubbed his head against Steve’s body, taking the hem of his sweatshirt in his mouth to give it a small, meaningful tug. <em>You’re mine. You’re perfect. It’s okay.</em></p><p>“Could you <em>not</em> destroy my clothes, please?” he sassed, but it came with a hand on Billy’s fur.</p><p>Billy shoved him into a large candy display at the end of an aisle. Steve doubled over, trying and failing to catch seasonal, pastel M&amp;M’s before he abandoned the effort and hastily looked around. He hissed, <em>“Billy!”</em></p><p>The wolf grinned, nails clacking over the concrete floor as he loped into the showerhead aisle. He heard the noise of candy bags being unceremoniously returned to their cardboard stand before Steve dashed after him. Instead of seeking revenge, though, he pointed at a row of showerheads mounted on pvc pipe for display. He jumped a little to touch a large, round one pointed directly at the floor. “I want one of these. Like a rain shower. We’d have to change the pipes, though.”</p><p>Steve glanced, and then did a double take at the wolf standing on his hind legs, front paws on the shelf to examine the showerhead and then nose his way through the boxes. “How do you tower over me as a wolf but I’m taller in person?”</p><p>And then Steve just couldn’t help himself. He wrapped his arms around Billy’s chest and tackled him to the floor. Except Billy landed on all fours and collapsed his hind legs so Steve’s weight went down. Billy easily sprang out of his grip and bit down on the back of Steve’s shirt.</p><p>“Billy! Billy—hah!” he laughed, the heels of his shoes failing to catch traction as the wolf dragged him back. Billy took him all the way down the aisle, wondering if Steve would begin to float like a balloon, but he was weaker than a kitten in his mirth—</p><p>“Gentlemen.”</p><p>Annette stood on the other side with a long receipt in hand. Her tone was enough for Steve to recover his footing as she picked up the umbrella and pint of spackle he’d dropped. Billy walked with him back to the showerhead choices, sitting tall while the Harringtons discussed the options. He remained blissfully unhelpful as Steve carried the showerhead and tape to the cashier counter.</p><p>On their way back to the car, Annette informed, “Because the mirror is a custom size, it’ll be a couple weeks before it’s ready. They’ll call the house when it’s ready to be delivered.”</p><p>“Okay,” Steve disregarded, slapping his hands over his thighs. “Food.”</p><p>His mother shook her head around a smile and pulled out of the lot. The rain was finally stopping, so when they pulled up to a Chinese restaurant, Steve was able to run inside without an umbrella.</p><p>As well as a second restaurant.</p><p>And then Annette parked outside of the Asian supermarket. Billy didn’t recall hearing anyone else in the house, but the amount of food they were picking up could feed both Harringtons, and then Billy and his mother. As Billy watched Steve jog inside the store, he mused, <em>I guess Tommy was right about witches needing the same calories.</em></p><p>Annette had opened the side door for Billy to get out if he wanted, but the general rule with food establishments was that four legs and a body of hair stayed outside. So he remained in the car, watching the lingering raindrops blur the reflected store lights off of puddles. His ears perked up at Steve conversing more in this place.</p><p>“Thanks for waiting for us. Do you have any moon cakes?”</p><p>“Wrong season. Moon cakes are in the autumn.”</p><p>“But if they’re moon cakes, can’t you make them for any moon?”</p><p>“Harrington, somehow you asking that every time you come in, has made me prep these in advance.”</p><p>A pause. Then, “Red bean buns!”</p><p>“Yeah. Thank you for another year of patronage.”</p><p>“Thanks! Happy New Year!”</p><p>“And to you.”</p><p><em>Oh</em>, Billy realized as he observed the red decorations hanging in front of the store with fresh eyes. <em>That’s right. Lunar New Year.</em></p><p>He’d completely forgotten in the middle of the move and finding Steve. After his mother and father split, they had stayed with Lillian’s oldest friend who lived in Chinatown, two cities over. Billy ate soup dumplings when he came home from school and had more old ladies fawn over him than he’d ever experienced in a white neighborhood. He never went hungry while his mother first struggled for work, though.</p><p>He sniffed the stacks of take-out boxes beside him, wondering if the Harringtons took it upon themselves to support every East Asian venue in town during their holiday. Although, the way Steve danced out of the supermarket and jumped off the pavement to click his heels, it was probably two birds with one stone; the other bird being Steve’s favorite cuisine.</p><p>“Door closing,” Annette informed. Billy eased back the same time Steve landed in his seat with a box as well as a grocery bag.</p><p>“They made us bean buns!”</p><p>She laughed breathily, “Also your favorite.”</p><p>Billy’s head emerged over Steve’s shoulder, recognizing the Asian pears in the bag at his feet, but his nose scented the aroma from the box on his lap. Steve withdrew a large, pale steamed bun and pried it in half. He looked at his mother. “Do you want some?”</p><p>“No, thank you. I’ll wait till we’re home.”</p><p>The hand offering the half pivoted to Billy. Steve expected him to just take it and manage it in the back, but teeth ever so gently bit down just before his fingers. Billy took the bite, and tossed his head to swallow the morsel whole, and came back for another. Steve swallowed thickly, moving his fingers out of the way for him to take another bite. He ate three bites out of Steve’s hand and licked his earlobe in thanks. For the rest of the drive back to the house, Billy contented himself with listening to Steve’s heartbeat calm down.</p><p>Upon entering the house, Annette informed, “Steve, your father will be home soon. The repairs can wait for tomorrow.”</p><p>Steve helped carry the food and hardware supplies inside, before entering the foyer hall to find Billy looking up at the pictures on the wall below the stairs. He gazed at a picture of a much smaller Steve, standing under a banner with Greek lettering while holding a skinny, teenage Tina. He was missing teeth and the picture had the harsh contrast of a disposable camera flash, but based on the paper crown with a purple foil 8 on it, Billy could guess it was a birthday shot.</p><p>There were other, typical family photos: a candid picture of small Steve on his father’s lap on some Greek beach, as well as Steve passed out on his father’s shoulder with red ice cream staining his cheek. Billy thought Steve took after his mom, but he resembled his father just as much. The angle of the camera looking down on Mr. Harrington, whose face was turned down to look at Steve on his lap…made for a very clear picture of what Steve might look like twenty years down the road.</p><p>Billy’s gaze moved to the tuxedo-clad, senior year headshot, and…an odd one. It was somewhat recent, since it was a selfie with Dustin, but Steve’s hair was longer, and he had a freshly blackened eye and split lip. The injuries were still red—had to have happened that <em>day</em>. But they were smiling like the camera had been taken out in a spontaneous second of chaos. Billy recognized Robin and the Sinclair sister behind Steve, unprepared and looking blankly at the camera. Steve and Dustin’s faces were over exposed, and the background was too dark for Billy to know where they were.</p><p>Now that Billy noticed it, he realized there were other, similarly bizarre pictures: a slightly younger Steve with fresh and red facial injuries again, but this time sitting on a couch with Nancy and Jonathan. The three of them smiled like they were forced to for the camera.</p><p>And then a group picture around a hospital bed. Around a smaller Will Byers, pale and emaciated despite his bright smile. On one side of the bed stood an older woman—presumably Mrs. Byers—with Jonathan and Nancy. On the other side stood Steve, Dustin, Mike…and Lucas. Steve’s clothes and injuries in the hospital matched the couch picture with Nancy and Jonathan, so those happened the same night.</p><p>He glanced at Steve looking at the pictures too, and then lifted onto his hind legs enough to nose at the frames.</p><p>Steve shook his head and walked around him with the hardware store bag. “I don’t think you’re ready for those stories. I’m too hungry to tell them anyway.”</p><p>Billy blew air out through his nose. Resigned, he moved up the stairs beside his mate. Steve set the bag on the counter of his bathroom and reached for the broom to give the floor another scour of glass pieces—</p><p>“Steve.”</p><p>He looked up, only to feel nailed in place by the fact that Billy stood next to him stark naked. Like he knew, Billy smiled and touched the underside of his chin. A gentle, <em>Aw, you trying to not look down, pretty boy?</em></p><p>“I gotta go. I’ll be around tomorrow.”</p><p>As if he were struggling to do math, Steve processed Billy’s state of undress and how he intended to travel. “I-um,” he croaked, “the door. I’ll get the door.”</p><p>Billy turned to leave with a smirked, “Thanks.”</p><p>Steve balanced the broom against the counter. When he returned to his room, Billy was already a wolf again, trotting down the hall. Billy wondered why Steve didn’t open the door with magic the way his mother could, but he couldn’t claim to mind having his mate see him out into the fresh, glistening night.</p><p>* * *</p><p>The ground was still wet when Billy returned the next morning in shoes and clothes. He inhaled the pungent, spring air as he knocked a curt rhythm on the red doors. His car sat like a wet jewel behind him. The rain made everything balmy in a way he really enjoyed; cool against his skin, but fresh and green. A nice change from the dry, California air—</p><p>The door opened to Steve holding a bowl of microwaved Chinese food. Based on his bedhead hair arching in various directions, the over-sized and faded Universal Studios theme park shirt, and pajama pants, Steve had just woken up.</p><p>Billy grinned, “Morning.”</p><p>Steve hummed a low sound as he rotated back into his kitchen. He’d filled his bowl full of noodles, but various containers littered the island counter. Garlic and pepper broccoli. The red bean buns. A skillet of scrambled eggs on an oven mitt for Steve to eat directly out of the pan. For some reason, two take-out containers of vegetable fried rice.</p><p>“How pissed are you gonna be if I treat myself?”</p><p>Steve mumbled some kind of answer through a mouthful of food, and then vaguely waved at everything. Billy took that to mean he could load a plate.</p><p>While he chewed a bean bun and went through the containers, Billy listened to the rooms around him. Steve didn’t have music playing, and no footsteps or televisions met Billy’s ears. “House sounds empty.”</p><p>Steve twirled noodles with his fork and nodded. “Work.”</p><p>Billy opened the microwave. “On a Sunday? It’s basically still the full moon. Did your dad have anything to say about the bathroom?”</p><p>“He works at the hospital. So he goes long periods working, and then long periods off.”</p><p>Billy absorbed that and realized, “Oh, yeah. Robin said your folks were both doctors. What is that like?”</p><p>It took a moment for Steve to swallow. “What? Overbearing parents, or everyone expecting me to have an IQ of a thousand?”</p><p>“I guess I have my answer,” Billy chuckled as he pulled his food out of the microwave for a stir, and then a second bake.</p><p>Something jingled and he looked at the box Steve was reaching for. It clumsily spun when he knocked it by the corners in Billy’s direction. “For your mom.”</p><p>Billy gave it a shake, hearing the broken glass inside, “Thanks,” and went to put it in his car. “Don’t lock me out.”</p><p>“Ahm,” came Steve’s reply as he shoved noodles into his gob.</p><p>When Billy returned, he locked the door behind him and grabbed his food from the microwave. He scanned the kitchen again as he circled the counter to sit next to Steve. “No coffee?”</p><p>“Not on weekends.”</p><p>Billy scrutinized Steve's sincerity over that. “Is that your rule or your parents’?”</p><p>Steve tilted the pan to scoop eggs onto his noodles. “I don’t mind. I prefer caffeine boosts in the afternoon anyways.”</p><p>Billy didn’t know what to make of that. Then again, as a Were, he naturally had more energy in the morning. He split one of the pairs of chopsticks that had been left on the counter, and dug in. Just didn’t seem right to eat Lunar New Year noodles any other way.</p><p>“What exactly does a high priestess have a doctorate in—?”</p><p>Steve’s hand grasped Billy’s forearm. The chopsticks halted in the air as he looked down at Steve touching him and declaring tiredly, “It’s too early.”</p><p>Billy huffed a breathy laugh, and let Steve have his quiet breakfast.</p><p>Steve finished first, and put the food away before cleaning his dishes. When Billy came around to do his own, Steve took the plate out of his hand and Billy bumped his hip against Steve’s. “Thanks, honey.”</p><p>Steve’s head tipped back, scoffing quietly at the ceiling. Pointing his smile at the sink didn’t hide it, though.</p><p>They went upstairs and Billy passed Tina lifting her head from the cat tree to stare at him as he entered the bathroom. He opened the tub of spackle while Steve unfolded the three-rung stepladder. Other things had since been added to the bathroom: an old gallon of paint and its accompanying accoutrements, cleaning supplies, and a sanding block. Steve set the ladder underneath the highest chip out of the wall, and Billy twirled the spatula between his fingers like a baton. Steve, meanwhile, ripped open the showerhead packaging.</p><p>As Billy filled in the dent and Steve read the diagram on the back, the former started, “Didn’t think we’d be home improving so soon.”</p><p>He heard Steve exhale through his nose. “You just keep going and going.”</p><p>Billy absorbed that and leaned his spatula-hand on the wall. “And you keep going in an opposite direction. What’s that about?”</p><p>Steve pivoted to step into the shower. “I’m allowed to take my time.”</p><p>It was Billy’s turn to sigh as he scraped the spatula over the wall to make sure the spackle putty was flush with the rest of the wall. “Seems like you’re avoiding it more than taking your time. Like if we get along too much you take two steps back.”</p><p>Steve wrapped the threads of the pipe in plumber’s tape as he deliberated and decided, “Are we going to talk about this now?”</p><p>“Obviously,” Billy sassed as he stepped down to apply putty elsewhere.</p><p>“About you charging down two kids.”</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Billy’s jaw slid to the side as his movements slowed. “You really call them kids first and vampires second.”</p><p>“It’s irrelevant.”</p><p>“Not where I come from,” he exhaled quietly. Then he looked behind him when Steve huffed derisively.</p><p>“Never would’ve guessed it of California. One of the first places to legalize weed but vampires are the problem.”</p><p>“Well funny you should mention that. Marijuana is legal but people are still in jail for it. Vampires finally have rights but our jails are still full of them. Some of them actually deserve to be there.”</p><p>“They’re not yours.”</p><p>“What?” Billy almost set his tools down to better look at Steve, but then he thought better of it. He did better with an activity.</p><p>“You’re not in California anymore. And you can’t wave a fancy analogy at me because nobody should be in jail for something that’s legal now. The system’s fucked and confronting kids like a bad, stereotypical alpha isn’t cool.”</p><p>The conversation went silent apart from metallic tinkering and spackle scraping. Once the showerhead was screwed on, Steve stepped out to turn the water on to test and then angle it where he wanted.</p><p>
  <em>Lay of the land.</em>
</p><p>The vampire kids were in pictures downstairs among the Harringtons’ family photos. Billy didn’t understand why those pictures also featured a bloody and battered Steve, but it’s what Billy had to work with. That, and how he and Robin seemed to have some kind of camaraderie with the younger sister. And…</p><p>“Max likes the Lucas kid.”</p><p>Steve went to the counter to wedge a screwdriver underneath the paint can lid. “You can’t tell me all that was because of brotherly bullshit.”</p><p>“It’s because of a lot of shit,” Billy snapped. “A vampire happened to step on a landmine.”</p><p>“Yeah? And who put it there?” Steve challenged while fighting the dried paint on the can.</p><p>“My dad,” Billy admitted quietly. It felt foreign and wrong. He hadn’t spoken about his father in years, and after a heaved breath, said as much. “Listen, my mom and I don’t talk about him because he put a lot of landmines down. But he was a cop… Considered a vampire in a concrete box a job well done.”</p><p>Steve gave that the moment of silence it deserved. Then, “Your mom seems nice enough. That wasn’t a raging red flag to her?”</p><p>Billy didn’t look at him. The room seemed very small now, and too warm. He flattened the putty against the wall and moved on to the next. When it became clear he wasn’t going to respond, Steve doubled his efforts with the can and pried the lid off with a groan—</p><p>“It’s too early.”</p><p>Steve peeked up at him holding out the mixing stick. His bedhead hair had settled somewhat into a ghost of its usual style. The front of it bobbed over his face when he nodded. “Okay.”</p><p>But he pushed the can towards Billy and took the spatula from him. At the curious vacancy in his eyes, Steve explained, “Use your wolfy biceps to mix the paint. I can make the spackle dry faster.”</p><p>Billy let his features tilt in favor of a smile as he watched Steve reach under the sink. He didn’t expect the medical mask box, but he accepted one gratefully after Steve said, “For the smell. And the sanding. Hang on.”</p><p>He went into his room, and Billy realized how quickly the open paint can was filling the bathroom. He’d forgotten how pungent a freshly painted room would be, but at least they were only doing touch-ups instead of full walls.</p><p>Steve returned with one of the orange roses from his bouquet as well as a couple leaves of oregano. Billy watched him pluck several petals off the rose and then stretch out one of the masks. He crushed the fresh herb and petals in his hands and folded them into a roll of the mask. “It’s not great, but it’s something.”</p><p>Billy accepted the retrofitted mask and watched Steve go into his room to open his window more than it already was. “Exactly how often do you paint your nails? We’ll need to talk about that.”</p><p>“Exactly as often as I like,” Steve retorted.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Progress ~ sort of haha But I, too, absolutely lose it over red bean buns.</p><p>I have a tumblr blog just for Harringrove things, but I post updates to both! So if you're already following my main blog for notifications, you can stay put :)<br/><a href="https://neonponders.tumblr.com/">My harringrove Tumblr~</a><br/><a href="http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/">My main Tumblr~</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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